


Miracles, Love and Promises

by alynwa



Series: The Ludwig Bowler Stories [3]
Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ludwig Bowler aka Wolf Schmidt has been contacted by UNCLE. Medical research may help his sister come out of her coma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Gentlemen, please sit down.” Mr. Waverly watched as his CEA and his partner took their usual seats at the conference table. He tapped the folder on the table in front of him and said, “I have received excellent and encouraging news this morning from Dr. Carmine DeChiara.”

 

Illya focused on his superior’s face. “The Medical Director of UNCLE Rehab?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Kuryakin. He informed me that the Research Scientists in the rehab facility have developed a new treatment for patients with brain injuries. They received permission to test it on Agent LaSalle from his family and when that proved successful, they decided to use it on Agent Sloan. As you know, Mr. Solo, UNCLE itself is his guardian as he has no family. In both cases, the agents awakened from their comas after having the medication administered by IV drip for two days.”

 

Stunned, Napoleon leaned forward. “Agents LaSalle and Sloan are _awake_? That’s incredible! Sloan was in a coma for six years! How is this possible?”

 

Illya, equally surprised but, ever the scientist, inquired, “Have there been any side effects? And, how is their mental capacity? Are they, for lack of a better term, themselves?”

 

Mr. Waverly gave the barest hint of a smile. “The way it was explained to me is that the treatment forces the brain to create new pathways in order to function normally. I am very pleased to tell you that both men have been out of their comas for five months and so far, it seems their memories and personalities are intact. Dr. DeChiara and I decided not to mention this to you or anyone until we were certain of their physical and mental health. Agent Sloan does not remember getting shot but, that is not abnormal for someone who has gone through a traumatic event.”

 

“True,” Napoleon agreed, “So, perhaps I will be getting my two agents back in the lineup?”

 

“Perhaps, Mr. Solo but, that is not the reason I called for you and Mr. Kuryakin. Almost two years ago, I assured Ludwig Bowler that any promising treatments for brain injury that our Medical Research Team developed would be offered to him as a treatment option for his sister. Or, I should say, Adalwolf Schmidt received my assurances.”

 

Illya nodded his understanding. “You want Napoleon and me to approach Wolf Schmidt and tell him about this breakthrough and ask him if he wants his sister Lutgard to undergo the treatment.”

 

“Yes. You two are still the only UNCLE personnel that Mr. Schmidt has a relationship with; his sister’s doctors just give him updates as needed. If he agrees, I will have Dr. DeChiara begin the protocol immediately and I will want you two there to provide Mr. Schmidt with whatever support he needs, within reason of course.”

 

“If you think it’s necessary, Sir,” Napoleon said cautiously. _Why do we have to babysit?_ , he thought as he glanced quickly at his partner.

 

The Old Man deduced from his CEA’s tone that he did not fully comprehend the reason for this assignment. He decided Mr. Solo needed to know more. “Agents Sloan and LaSalle are and have been doing very well and we have no reason to think otherwise but, there is no guarantee that Mr. Schmidt’s sister will respond in the same manner.”

 

Mr. Kuryakin understood the implications. “So, if for some reason Mrs. Schwarz does not respond to treatment or suffers adverse effects as a result of the treatment, we will be there to show him that this organization cares and deflect him from possibly blaming us if she deteriorates.”

 

“Precisely, Mr. Kuryakin. Wolf Schmidt’s knowledge of THRUSH and its operations has proven quite valuable during the last two years. I believe he will continue to provide us with good information going forward if his sister recovers from her coma but, if she does not, we do not want him turning against us.”

 

Napoleon said, “We will make sure that doesn’t happen, Sir.”

 

“See that you do, Mr. Solo. Keep me informed. Good day, Gentlemen.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Napoleon and Illya didn’t need to have a discussion about who would be placing the call to Wolf. Originally, Napoleon had been the agent Wolf had wanted to help him get free of THRUSH but, Wolf and Illya had bonded over their similar experiences during World War II so much that he had given the Russian the account numbers to the Swiss bank accounts that contained the money he had stolen for Lutgard’s care and Illya had promised to see she received it if Wolf had died at Sergio Bolivar’s hands. They had developed a grudging respect for each other.

 

Wolf answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

 

“Hello, Wolf. It is Illya Kuryakin. How are you?”

 

The German laughed out loud. “Amenities? How refreshing! I am fine, Illya. And, you?”

 

“I am well. Napoleon and I wish to come see you tomorrow. Dr. DeChiara wants to discuss a treatment option with you and we want to be there.”

 

Wolf was silent for so long, Illya thought the line had gone dead. “Are you still there, Wolf?”

 

Illya heard him clear his throat. “There is a way that Luti can be helped? Yes, yes, please come tomorrow. It is Friday; please accept my invitation to stay the weekend.”

 

“We were planning to stay upstate this weekend. I will discuss with Napoleon whether he wishes to stay in your home but, I do not think it will be a problem. Are you able to meet us at the rehab facility by noon?”

 

“Absolutely. I will see both of you then.”


	2. Chapter 2

Noon the next day found Illya, Napoleon and Wolf sitting in the office of UNCLE’s Rehabilitation Center Medical Director listening closely as Dr. DeChiara was detailing what had been done for Agents LaSalle and Sloan and their subsequent recoveries.

 

“Lutgard will be hooked up to an intravenous drip containing the drugs I told you about. There is no reason to think that she will react differently than our agents so, we should begin to see changes in her condition approximately thirty – six hours after she starts the treatment.”

 

“So,” Wolf said when the doctor had finished speaking, “you think this treatment could cause my sister to wake up. That is _wunderbar_ but, if she does, what about her emotional health? The crash that put her into a coma also killed her children and husband. Her family is dead.”

 

Illya said, “That is not true. She has _you_.”

 

Dr. DeChiara added, “She certainly does and you have been one of the most devoted family members of any of my patients. I believe people in comas are aware of their surroundings on some level. I am convinced she knows you are close by. When the time comes, you and Lutgard will have access to our Mental Health Unit and one of the doctors will be assigned to consult on this case. You will both be given all the assistance you need to transition to the new reality as smoothly as possible.”

 

Wolf seemed a little surprised. “Why do you think that I would need counseling?”

 

Napoleon responded, “Well, ah, if, I mean _when_ your sister wakes up, she is going to encounter one shock after another and will need you for support. That can be as hard a burden to bear as watching her be in a coma.” He colored slightly when he noticed Wolf’s eyes narrow in anger at his gaffe. He cleared his throat to speak and then thought better of it. Only he saw the disapproving little headshake Illya made in his direction.

 

The Russian leaned on the table they were sitting around and said, “Wolf, I think what Napoleon is trying to say is that we and UNCLE are here to support you, whatever you need. Napoleon and I will be here at least through Monday and longer if the situation demands it. And, if our presence is not enough…The point is: You will not be left alone or on your own.”

 

Wolf closed his eyes and let what Illya said sink in. “Thank you, Illya, it is much appreciated.” He looked at Dr. DeChiara and asked, “When will you start the treatment regimen?”

 

The doctor stood and closed Lutgard’s file. “I see no reason not to start immediately. If you will follow me.”

 

The four men walked to the elevator bank and went down to the patients’ wing on the third floor. Exiting the elevator, Dr. DeChiara and Wolf Schmidt turned right and led the way to room 317. Wolf held the door open to usher in the other three. Once they were all inside, he walked to the chair next to his sister’s bed and sat down. Taking his beloved Luti’s hand, he said softly, “Sister, you are going to get a new medication that will bring you back to me. Then, we will live this new life together. You would like that, yes?”

As he spoke to her, a nurse had entered the room and was setting up an IV drip on the side opposite where he sat. His eyes followed every move she made until she looked at him and smiled. “Mr. Schmidt,” she said affably, “I have been doing this for quite a while; I promise I’m not hurting her.”

 

Wolf blushed. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I know you take excellent care of her. I’m just being the protective big brother.”

 

A look of confusion crossed Illya’s face. “I thought you were twins...”

 

“I am older by four minutes. When we were teens, she used to tease me that every second of those four minutes showed on my face because she looked so much younger.” He reached up to stroke her hair. “I wonder what she’ll think when she sees her face again.”

 

Illya moved away from the door where he had been standing next to Napoleon to look at Lutgard, something he really had not done after she was rescued from Sergio Bolivar two years earlier. Now, he took his time and absorbed what she looked like.

 

Her hair was blonde but, more of a platinum than her brother’s. Her irises were visible as her eyelids were partially open so he could see they were the same shade of gray as Wolf’s. She appeared to be about Illya’s height, five – eight; tall for a woman. Even though he knew she received the proper amount of nutrition, her body still looked vaguely emaciated due to the atrophy of her muscles; still, he imagined she probably shared the same slight build her brother has. Her skin had not had direct sunlight fall upon it for at least five years but, it was smooth and blemish free. _She is rather striking_ , the Russian thought.

 

Dr. DeChiara cleared his throat and the agents and Wolf looked at him. “Gentlemen,” he said, “Let us leave Nurse Jones to tend to her patient.” He swept his arm out toward the exit and the three men walked past him out the door. Once they were all in the hallway, he said, “Each bag of drugs will take two hours, more or less, to drip through the IV. She will monitor the dosage and replace the bag as needed. I suggest that you leave now and return tomorrow evening around seven. That will be approximately thirty hours into Lutgard receiving the medication.”

 

Wolf stated, “Once I arrive tomorrow, I will be staying until my sister awakens.”

 

Dr. DeChiara chuckled and replied, “Now, how did I know that?”


	3. Chapter 3

Illya drove the UNCLE sedan, expertly following the Mercedes – Benz that Wolf was driving. Napoleon sat next to him gazing out the window at the open fields, streams and houses they passed by.

 

“Napoleon, let it go. If Wolf were truly offended by your comments, he would surely have rescinded his invitation to stay with him for the weekend. He has not done that.”

 

The brunet pulled his eyes away from the scenery to focus on his partner. “Only because he knows you would not stay if he told me to leave. What I said earlier sounded insensitive and stupid to _me_ so I can only imagine how it sounded to Schmidt.” He grinned at the Russian. “I guess he likes _you_ best now.”

 

“I was not aware that we were involved in a personality contest,” the Russian sniffed though a smile played at the edges of his mouth. “However, do try to keep your size 12s out of your mouth, Napoleon. We are here.”

 

“Here” was Wolf Schmidt’s lakeside house. Though it seemingly wasn’t lavish by any stretch of the imagination, it sat on five acres of land and then several more acres separated it from the neighbors on either side. Two stories tall, it had two bedrooms, one and a half baths, a large eat – in kitchen and a cozy living room with a fireplace on one wall. A large back porch faced the water and a hand – made brick barbecue grill sat off to the right of that.

 

Wolf re – acquainted them with the house as he showed them to the second bedroom. “I imagine that UNCLE also trains its agents to share sleeping quarters so, I know you won’t mind. I have placed towels and washcloths in the bathroom for both of you. Please feel free to freshen up; I know you drove directly to Cadyville from New York. Maybe you want to take a nap while I prepare dinner?”

 

Illya removed his jacket, exposing his shoulder holster. “I’ll pass on the nap but, a shower would definitely be appreciated. We’ll come down after we both have showered and changed.”

 

Napoleon put his suitcase on a chair, opened it and pulled out his toiletries bag. “Thank you again for your hospitality, Wolf. This is much nicer than a motel.”

 

The German smiled but, it was strained from fatigue. “You are welcome. Besides, I understand Mr. Waverly likes to keep costs to a minimum.” With that, he turned around and went downstairs.

By the time Napoleon came back into the bedroom with a towel slung low around his hips, Illya had already dressed and was sitting on the bed putting on his shoes and socks. “Hey, Tovarisch, did you notice how well appointed that bathroom is?”

 

“I did. This house at first glance is modest in appearance; nothing about it makes it stand out from other houses in the area but, when you look around and you know what you are looking at and for, you begin to see that a lot of money has gone into this place.”

 

Napoleon nodded in agreement. “I noticed the living room furniture is from Maurice Villency and the rugs more than likely are hand – woven. He has a vase on the kitchen table that I saw in Macy’s for $600.” He dressed quickly and combed his hair in the mirror, which he noted was gilded with twenty – four carat gold leaf.

 

They went downstairs and joined their host in the kitchen where he stood stirring a large aromatic pot of something that made the Russian’s mouth water. “Wolf, that smells delicious. What is it?”

 

“It is called All Pumpkins Stew even though there are no pumpkins in it. It is a traditional German beef stew that is usually served for Halloween but, I want it tonight because it reminds me of the few and far between good times from my childhood. Mama used to make this for my sister and me before…well, it was a favorite of ours. I just finished browning the meat in the oil I had flavored with garlic and onions so; you’re probably smelling that and the caraway seeds. Now I just have to do this,” he said as he poured in what they recognized as beef broth, “and let it simmer for a couple of hours after it comes to a boil.”

 

Illya looked positively stricken. “ _Hours_?” he repeated.

 

Wolf laughed out loud. “Do not worry, Illya. I remember how large your appetite is.” He went to a bread box and extracted a loaf of bread. “This is called _vollkornbrot_. It’s made of rye flour and berries fermented with sourdough and sunflower seeds. I made it myself.” He put it on the table and went to the refrigerator and pulled out a platter of cold cuts and cheeses along with mustard and mayonnaise and several bottles of German beer. “Hopefully, this will hold you until dinner.”

 

“Spacibo, Wolf,” Illya said as he wasted no time putting together a sandwich and opening a beer. By the time Napoleon had assembled a sandwich; Illya had finished his and was making a liverwurst and onion sandwich as a second course.

 

Napoleon scrunched up his nose at the fragrance of Illya’s lunch choice. “It’s a good thing there’s no one around here for you to kiss,” he teased.

Wolf turned down the heat on his stew, sat down and began making a sandwich for himself. “You know, it’s common knowledge in THRUSH that you two are lovers,” he stated matter of factly before taking a deep swallow of beer.

 

Illya stopped mid – chew and Napoleon choked on his beer. Grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth and sweater where the beer had dribbled, he gasped, “ _What_?”

 

“Oh, yes,” Wolf said calmly as he spread mustard on a slice of bread, “ _I_ don’t believe it, of course but, that is the accepted reason why you two won’t leave each other behind on missions if one of you is captured. In fact, the leader of a satrap you destroyed, Napoleon, swears the only reason it was blown to smithereens and he barely escaped with his life is that your ‘lover’ Illya took a rather brutal beating from his underlings and you were hell-bent on avenging him.”

 

Illya stuffed the last piece of sandwich into his mouth and grinned as his partner reddened. “My hero!” he exclaimed before raising his bottle of beer and draining it. “Wolf, for whatever reason, that rumor is so widespread, sometimes I think everyone in The Game who has heard of us has heard it. It bothers Napoleon; I have learned to ignore it. My opinion is: Napoleon and I know the truth about our relationship and the more one tries to say what it is not, the more people will be convinced what it is. Therefore, I have no comment and let people think what they wish.”

 

Napoleon cleared his throat and then added, “Honestly, it _used_ to bother me at first. A lot. I mean, ah, there are other partnerships in the world of espionage that don’t garner the level of speculation that Illya and I do.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Changing the subject: Illya and I have been noticing how high – end your home is. This vase, for instance, and the Reed and Barton silverware, the furniture... I had wondered how you would fit into this community but, you don’t flaunt your wealth for the neighbors to see.”

 

Wolf went to the stove to check on his stew. “Why would I? I am basically a regular guy. I have actually made some female acquaintances that I find rather pleasant to be around. I told them that I am divorced; that seems to make me more desirable but, they won’t come right out and say it.” He snorted, “Americans, you are so good at…What is the expression? Beating around the bush? You have a question, Napoleon. Ask it. You have earned that privilege.” He got three more beers from the fridge before sitting down.

 

Napoleon popped the cap off his beer and then passed the bottle opener over to Illya. “Alright. I know this is rude but, I have been wondering since we met: How much money do you have in those Swiss accounts?”

 

Wolf stared at him. “ _That’s_ what you want to know?” He shifted his gaze to the Russian. “You didn’t tell him?”

 

Illya shrugged. “How could I tell him what I do not know?”

 

Wolf pursed his lips and nodded. “I was right to trust you,” he said softly. Louder he said, “I decided to take a chance with giving you those account numbers, Illya, because I thought you would not think about the money unless the situation demanded it. Napoleon, you are an honorable man, I think but, you are also a curious man. My thought was that if I had given _you_ the account numbers, you would have taken a moment to find out how much was in there, not to help yourself but, just to satisfy that curiosity of yours whereas Illya couldn’t have cared less. If Sergio had managed to kill both my sister and me, Illya would have found out that there really was 56 million dollars in those accounts because at that point, it would have been his money. Today, with interest, it is just over 61 million.”

 

Illya laughed at Napoleon’s stunned expression. “Do not look so shocked, Napoleon. Fortunately, I do not have the burden of all that money but, I would have given you a dollar or two in honor of our partnership.” He reached over and closed the American’s mouth.

 

“I propose another subject change. Wolf, since it would appear that Napoleon and I will soon be meeting Lutgard, why don’t you tell us something about your sister. What is she like?” 

 

“What is Luti like?” Wolf repeated as he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I think you both will like her. I think if she had been born in another time and place, she would have continued to be the type of girl who wore pink everyday and played with her dolls. She was not a tomboy by any stretch of the imagination. But, after our mother died, we were eight years old and on our own in war – torn Berlin. She learned to be tough. She could fight and win against boys twice her size. Our lives depended on our ability to find food and defend ourselves from people who would take it. We did what we had to do and we survived for over a year until our aunt was able to find us.”

 

Illya nodded, clearly moved. “My sister Fekla was strong like that, too. If it were not for her, I might not have lived long enough to make it to the orphanage.”

 

Wolf smiled. “I’m sorry I will never meet her, Illya. Luti is very intelligent, also. Our aunt enrolled us in school as soon as we got to Munich. We both did well with our studies and were accepted to university but, Luti had met and fallen in love with Karl Schwarz. Our aunt was happy that my sister wished to get married but, I felt that she was abandoning me and I did not treat my future brother – in – law nicely, at first.” He grinned even more. “My sister convinced me she was doing the right thing for her. She could be…very persuasive.”

 

Napoleon raised an eyebrow. “What did she do, beat you up?” he teased.

 

“No but, she threatened to; the first time she had ever gone against me. That is how I knew how much he meant to her. We were almost eighteen and she convinced me, finally, that she needed to have a home and security. She said that Karl made her feel safe and she wanted to try for a normal life with him and it was very important to her that I understand and accept that.”

 

“I want you both to know that my sister and I are not joined at the hip. After she married and I went away to school, we did not see each other often though we spoke by telephone at least once a month. I visited to meet my niece and nephew when they were born, but for the most part, I wasn’t around. After I joined THRUSH, I was sent to the Caribbean. When the accident happened, our aunt followed my instructions to place Luti in the facility run by Bogenhausen.” The German sighed. “That is another thing I have to tell her; our aunt passed away a year later.” He scrubbed his face with his hand and stood up. “I am suddenly very tired. If you will excuse me, I am going to lie down. Illya, may I impose on you to watch the stew? It should be ready in an hour. Please, help yourselves if I am not awake.”

 

“Do not worry, Wolf. I will take care of it.” Illya and Napoleon watched their host head to his bedroom. When they heard his door close, Illya looked at his partner and opined, “Tomorrow is going to be a very interesting day.”


	4. Chapter 4

Saturday was uneventful for the most part. Ludwig “Adalwolf Schmidt” Bowler spent the majority of the day in nervous solitude. Ever the attentive host, he had apologized profusely for not joining his guests for dinner the night before and insisted on preparing breakfast. “It will give me something to focus on other than my sister,” he said.

 

He made a typical German breakfast buffet; known as a Frühstück. Homemade crusty rolls known as Brötchen, cold cuts, sausages, soft boiled eggs, cheeses, fruits, jams and jellies all washed down with pots of hot tea. Illya, as usual, attacked the food with gusto while Napoleon ate much more slowly but, steadily. Both noticed that Wolf ate very little and continued to be preoccupied.

 

“Wolf,” Napoleon said, “I brought some expense reports to work on while I’m here so, don’t worry about entertaining me. Illya, on the other hand, was just telling me last night that he would love to take a tour of your town and maybe even meet some of your lady friends. Didn’t you, Illya?” He ignored the glare that was sent his way by the Russian.

 

Illya turned his attention to Wolf. “If you do not mind, I would enjoy a ride into town. We could eat lunch there; my treat. Napoleon can fend for himself here.”

 

Wolf shook his head and replied, “I am not very good company today, Illya. I tell you what: You and Napoleon go into town. I want to spend some time on my own to get ready for whatever is coming next. I know Dr. DeChiara said come around seven but, I think I will get there around 3:30 or 4. You can meet me there.”

 

Napoleon answered for both of them, “That’s fine, Wolf. We’ll see you later.” He gave a head motion to Illya that said “Let’s go” and went out the back door to their car, confident that his partner was right behind him. He held his hand out and said, “I’ll drive” and the Russian reluctantly but, dutifully dropped the keys into it. “I’ve been to Plattsburgh once or twice before,” he said by way of explanation.

 

Since they had the majority of the afternoon to kill, Illya convinced Napoleon that they should peruse the local museums so, they went to two: The Kent – Delord House Museum which depicts the daily lives of the local people from the late 1700s to the early 1900s and the Battle of Plattsburgh Interpretive Museum which showcases not only the Battle of Plattsburgh during the War of Independence but, also the War of 1812. Both men as veterans of their respective country’s armed forces were mildly interested in the contents of both museums but, they were marking time and they both knew it.

 

They then headed over to Route 9 and visited the Elfs Farm Winery and Cider Mill where Illya fell in love with the hard apple cider. They bought wine and cider to take back to New York City. Napoleon checked his watch and said, “It’s almost 2; let’s go get something to eat and then head over to the rehab center to meet Wolf.”

 

“Good, because my stomach needed no watch to tell it it is time to eat.”

 

Napoleon smiled, “I have just the place; Wolf said one of his friends works at Dickey’s Barbeque Pit on Smithfield so, let’s go there.”

 

When he didn’t hear a dissenting opinion, he turned the car around and drove directly to Smithfield. After parking the car, they walked into the clean, spacious place and found a booth in the back that afforded them a view of the entire restaurant and the front door. The menu was posted in several places on the walls. After a couple of minutes, a waitress walked to their table. She was wearing a pink uniform dress with a nametag that said “Eunice” and what could almost pass for a nurse’s cap on her head. Napoleon thought that if she had been chewing gum she would have been a perfect stereotypical small town food server like you saw in the movies.

 

“Can I get you boys anything to drink?”

 

Napoleon flashed one of his winning smiles at her. “Yes, Eunice, I would love a nice, tall glass of… lemonade.” Eunice blushed and felt embarrassed yet pleased by Napoleon’s unabashed flirting.

 

“And, you? Would you care for something to drink?” she asked the blond man studying the menu on the wall.

 

“Just water, thank you.” He glanced at her with cool blue eyes for just a moment before returning his attention to the menu. Eunice thought these were the two most handsome men she had ever seen; they were nothing like the usual locals who frequented the place.

 

When she returned with their drinks, Napoleon smiled his thanks and then, moved in for the kill. “I believe we have a friend in common. Wolf Schmidt?”

 

She was so pleased, she was flustered. “Oh my goodness, you know _Wolfie_? He comes in here all the time! Oh well, why didn’t you _say_ so? That lemonade is on the house! Now, what can I get you to eat?”

 

After they placed their orders, Illya looked at his partner and deadpanned, “So, should Wolf and I not expect you home tonight?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous! For all I know, he dates that delectable little morsel! I’m just trying to score free stuff. If it turns out they are _just_ friends well…we’ll see.”

 

“Napoleon, I don’t know how you do it.”

 

“Illya, I don’t know how you _don’t_ do it.”

 

The Russian sighed. “Sex for me is a very intimate thing, Napoleon. I want to be able to lose myself in the lovemaking; I do not want to be guarded or feel exposed. I want to feel safe. Maybe it is old – fashioned in the 60s to not want to participate in the ‘free love’ movement that is so popular now but, if I have sex with a woman, I want it to mean something; to her and to me. I can wait until I meet that woman.”

 

Napoleon looked at his best friend and partner and said sincerely, “Whoever that woman is, Tovarisch, she will be lucky to have you.”

 

Before he could respond, Eunice returned with two heaping plates of ribs, baked beans, ears of corn and cornbread and the conversation took a back seat to eating.

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

By the time Illya and Napoleon had plowed through the huge lunch portions, free lemonade, pie a la mode and conversation Eunice insisted they have, it was three – thirty. They were finally allowed to leave after Napoleon promised they would come in to eat and visit the next time they came upstate.

 

For once, Illya was fine with his partner driving. He flopped into the passenger seat and sighed, “I think those were the best ribs I have ever eaten! I am actually full.”

 

“If I weren’t driving, I would write that down. ‘Kuryakin claims to be full.’ Maybe I’ll ask Marian in Human Resources to include that bit of news in the monthly newsletter.” He laughed out loud as he maneuvered through the sparse traffic on the way to the rehab center.

 

Illya had leaned his head back against the seat with his eyes closed and was enjoying the ride and the feeling of the sun’s rays touching his skin. He decided not to respond to Napoleon’s teasing; instead, he let his mind wander back to The Barbecue Pit and his observing Napoleon work his charms on Eunice. _I swear, if that woman had been a cat, she would have been purring in pleasure flopped over on her back while he rubbed her belly. He flirts with women for the same reason he works out in the gym: To keep his skills sharp._ He sighed. _It is as natural for Napoleon to charm women as it is for him to breathe. I, on the other hand, learned not to waste anything whether it be food, clothing or emotions. Everything is precious and to share it with someone unworthy is to squander it. Maybe one day…_

 

“Wake up, Sunshine, we’re here.”

 

The Russian opened his eyes just as Napoleon expertly pulled the car into a diagonal parking space. They received their Visitor’s badges from Reception and went directly to Dr. DeChiara’s office. As they had expected, Wolf Schmidt was already there, sitting nervously in an easy chair tapping his foot.

 

“Dr. DeChiara will be right back. I asked him to wait a few minutes for you.”

 

Just as the two agents sat down, the door opened and the doctor entered his office. “Good afternoon, All,” he greeted them as he took his seat. “Let’s get right to it. I have something to report that is…slightly unexpected. The Research Department, to use a non – medical term, ‘tweaked’ the combination of drugs they had given Agents Sloan and LaSalle. What that means is that Lutgard Schwarz is waking up faster than they did.”

 

Wolf’s sharp intake of breath was the only sound at first. Then, he said, “I want to see her.”

 

The doctor stood. “Of course but, please understand. She is not awake yet; tests are showing that her brain is functioning at a higher level than it had been when she first arrived. Shall we?” He ushered the men out of his office.

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

The doctor and the three men accompanying him were looking down at the woman lying in the bed.

 

Napoleon was the first to speak. “She looks different. She looks more… _there_ than the last time we saw her.”

 

Dr. DeChiara smiled. “You are right, she does. That is because the medication is working; her brain function is improving by leaps and bounds. Basically, she is in a deep sleep now as opposed to a coma.”

 

Wolf sat in the chair next to the bed and took his sister’s hand. “So, she could awaken at any time?” His voice was both excited and apprehensive. 

 

“Yes, Wolf; we are anticipating that she will awaken in approximately two hours.”

 

Wolf’s smile was positively blinding. “I have never wanted anything more in my life than to see her awake,” he said softly. He cleared his throat and spoke a little louder. “Illya, Napoleon, if you do not want to wait around, you are more than welcome to go back to the house.”

 

The blond shook his shaggy head. “What kind of support would we be if we left you alone? This must be nerve wracking. We will stay.”

 

“I was hoping you would say that; I did not wish to impose. Thank you, Illya. Thank you, Napoleon.” He turned back to his sister, leaned closer and used his free hand to brush her hair away from her face. “Soon, Luti. Soon.”

 

After telling them to call for him as soon as they notice any changes, the doctor left them to their vigil. It was obvious to the two agents that though Wolf found their presence comforting, he was not in the mood to talk. They pulled chairs together against the wall opposite the hospital bed and sat down. Settling in together, they soon dozed off, shoulders touching and keeping them upright.

 

An audible gasp made both men’s eyes snap open and them to sit up straight. They stepped up behind Wolf and looked into the open, _aware_ , eyes of Lutgard Bowler Schwarz. “Luti, you have come back! My sister has come back. _Gott in himmel, danke, danke, danke_.” Wolf said incredulously. He seemed almost in shock.

 

Napoleon went into the hallway to find a nurse and call the doctor while Illya watched as the woman took in her surroundings. Her gaze fell upon him and he swore he could see the question _Who are you?_ form in those gorgeous grey eyes before they settled back on her brother.

 

The Russian was surprised that he had thought her eyes “gorgeous” but _They are_ , he thought. He watched as she tried and failed to speak. 

 

“Don’t try to speak, Luti, I know your throat is very dry and you feel weak. You are in a medical facility. A doctor is coming, do not worry. There is so much to tell you. I love you, Luti.” At that, the barest hint of a smile came to Luti’s face.

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

“Yes, Mr. Waverly, it really was incredible. Dr. DeChiara examined her and considering she had been in a coma more than five years, found her to be in good shape. Wolf told her there had been an accident but, not that her husband and children are gone. The social worker and psychiatrist assigned to her case thought it best to ease her into the whole truth.”

 

“I am inclined to agree with their judgment, Mr. Solo. Where is Mr. Kuryakin?”

 

“He decided to stay at the rehab center until I get back. I’m at the house packing some things for Wolf because he’s decided to stay in his sister’s room tonight to keep her company.” Napoleon took a deep breath and said, “Sir, Miss Schwarz’ prognosis is excellent. Dr. DeChiara has arranged for physical therapy to begin tomorrow and he feels that her chances for full recovery are just as good as Agents Sloan and LaSalle. I was thinking that Illya and I can return to the City tomorrow and report for duty on Monday morning.”

 

“Excellent, Mr. Solo. I have an assignment that I was going to give to Phillips and Gordon but, since you two will be back, I will give it to you. Both of you report to me at 9AM Monday. Waverly out.”

 

Napoleon sighed with relief as he placed his communicator into his inside jacket pocket. _I want to go back out into the field; I’m glad things worked out here but, babysitting is not my style._ He picked up the weekender he had packed for Wolf and his and Illya’s things and headed to the car. _I’ll ask Illya what time he wants to leave tomorrow_.

 

When Napoleon re – entered Lutgard’s room, his eyes swept around to take in everything that was happening. Nurse Jones was checking and recording the patient’s vitals while Illya was giving her ice chips. Wolf was holding her hands and talking to her. Lutgard’s eyes flicked from her brother to Illya and back.

 

Illya gave the woman one more spoonful of ice and put the cup down. “I’ll be right back, Wolf.” He walked over to Napoleon and the two of them stepped out into the hallway.

 

“I told the Old Man that things here are looking good so, we’ll be heading back to New York tomorrow. We have a meeting with him Monday at 9 to get our next assignment. What time do you want to leave tomorrow? I would like to get home before 7 so I can prepare for work.”

 

“Oh? All right, that is good, Napoleon. Yes, we should leave no later than 10:30.” The Russian glanced back at the door.

 

“Are you alright, Tovarisch? You seem…distracted.”

 

Illya colored slightly and replied, “I am fine; I was hoping to observe Lutgard’s progress for another day or two but, I will ask Wolf to keep me informed. It is not a problem; we can leave. I just find her… _case_ fascinating. Where are we spending the night?”

 

Napoleon eyed Illya as if he were trying to see through him. “I saw a motel not too far from here. Are you sure you are okay?”

 

“Did I not just say that I am?” Illya snapped.

 

Napoleon raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, forget I said anything. Let’s say our goodbyes to Wolf and be on our way.” He entered the room with Illya following. “Ah, Wolf, Mr. Waverly is expecting us back at work on Monday so, we’ll be driving home tomorrow morning. If there is anything you need from UNCLE, please, don’t hesitate to call either Illya or me and we will make sure things are handled.”

 

Wolf stood up and shook Napoleon’s hand vigorously. “Thank you for everything, Napoleon and please, let Mr. Waverly know how grateful I am that he kept his promise to me. I will never forget it.” He turned toward the Russian and embraced him and then kissed him on both cheeks. “I wish there were some way for you to experience the joy of having your sister back. You are welcome to visit anytime. Thank you for being here now.”

 

Illya smiled shyly and asked, “If you don’t mind, Wolf, could you let me know how Lutgard is progressing from time to time?”

 

Wolf patted Illya’s shoulder. “Consider it done.”

 

And with that, the two agents waved goodbye and left.


	5. Chapter 5

_Six Months Later_

 

Illya pulled the final page of his report from his typewriter. He added it to the other pages on his desk, stapled them together and passed the package over to his partner who was just finishing up his expense report. “Here. You should glance it over to see if I translated your chicken scratch correctly. Otherwise, all it needs is your signature.”

 

Napoleon gave Illya one of his dazzling smiles as he flipped through the report and signed off with a flourish. “It is perfect, _mon frere_. Listen, we got back later than I thought we would so, all the young ladies I wanted to ask out have left work for the day.”

 

Illya gripped his desk as though his life depended on it and lamented, “Napoleon Solo has no date on a Saturday night?!? Has the world gone _mad_? Is it coming to an _end_?” He ducked down just in time to avoid getting hit by a pen.

 

“Laugh it up, mop head. You’re about to blow your chance at a free meal. I was about to suggest that you and I go to Umberto’s Clam House in Little Italy for a late dinner. And since Mr. Waverly has given us a few days off, we could go listen to some music in the Village; I’ll even check out that place where your alter – ego, Eddie Case, plays jazz bass if you want.”

 

Illya came out from behind his desk to reach for his trench coat. Throwing it over his arm, he replied, “As tempting as all of that sounds, Napoleon, I must decline. I have made other plans.”

 

Before Illya could open the pneumatic door, Napoleon sprang up to block his path. “Just a minute, you sneaky little Russian! When did you make these alleged plans? Fourteen hours ago, we were in Algeria! You’ve made no phone calls since we landed at JFK. The only people you have spoken to or seen since deplaning have been the cab driver, Charlene in Reception and Mr. Waverly. You’ve been bailing on me every time I’ve suggested doing something on our days off for weeks. What’s going on?”

 

Illya put on his coat and his most innocent look. “Nothing is going on, Napoleon. I have plans that were made some time ago and they do not include you. I am sorry you feel neglected.” He checked his watch. “I have to go. Thank you for the invitation to dinner. Perhaps, we can do it another time?”

 

Napoleon stepped aside and opened the door. “Sure. See you later.” He watched as Illya hurried to the elevators, pushed the down button and when the doors opened, stepped through and was gone. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. _Something is definitely going on_ , he thought. _Something has been going on for weeks_.

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Sunday, Napoleon luxuriated in the rare opportunity to sleep late in his own bed. He stretched like a spoiled cat and then arose and put his favorite blue cashmere robe on over his silk pajamas. He padded into the kitchen and made coffee. _Oh, that smells like heaven in a pot_! He poured himself a cup, grabbed a handful of mail and stepped out onto his terrace. Sitting at his bistro table, he began looking through his mail for something of interest.

 

 _I am so glad I’m not really Navarre Solange; all he gets are bills and junk mail_. He opened his electric bill and sighed. _I’m hardly ever here, how can this bill be so high?_ He sat there for awhile drinking his coffee and opening his mail, putting bills in one stack and everything else in another. _Thank God for expense accounts; suits and hotel rooms add up rather quickly, don’t they?_ He finished his coffee and went back inside. He left his bills on his desk and headed off to shower and dress.

 

 _I have to drop off some dry cleaning, stop at the Post Office and buy some groceries_ ; he ticked off the errands he planned to run. Thinking about food made him think about his partner. _What are you up to, Illya?_ He checked the time and noted it was after noon. He picked up the phone and dialed Illya’s number. After fifteen rings, he threw in the towel and hung up. He reached for his communicator but, put it back down. _What would I say? Illya, I know you are a grown man but, what are you doing and who are you doing it with? He would kill me. Partner Mine, I’ve heard it said around HQ that no one knows what Illya Kuryakin does when he goes home at night. I used to know. Not knowing is driving me crazy. Oh well, those groceries are not going to buy themselves._ He pulled a soft, brown leather jacket from his coat closet and after putting it on, checked himself out in the mirror. _Hmmm, this shade of brown does bring out my eyes. Somewhere in this City, there are several women who don’t know yet that they will be giving me their telephone numbers._

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

“Navarrrrrrrre, remember me? Margie, your dinner date?”

 

Napoleon, slightly embarrassed to have been caught with his mind wandering, turned his attention back to Margie, the lovely librarian he had met while shopping in D’Agostino’s. He had been so pleased when she accepted his invitation to dinner at Sardi’s. She was beautifully turned out in a blue, form – fitting dress that showed off the curves he had suspected were there underneath the baggy sweatshirt she was wearing when they met over the romaine lettuce. “I am so sorry, my dear. I was just thinking about a work – related problem. You were saying?”

 

She smiled and ran her finger along his jaw line. “I was saying that, if you like, we can go back to my place for… _drinks_.”

 

“Margie, I think that is a lovely idea! Why don’t I take care of the check and we’ll be ready to leave, yes?”

 

“I just need to powder my nose; I’ll be right back,” she replied as she stood. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before she swayed away with Napoleon watching her go with a gleam in his eye. He caught the waiter’s eye and signaled for the check.

 

When the waiter left with the check and a sizeable tip, Napoleon surreptitiously activated his communicator in his inside jacket pocket. “Open Channel K,” he whispered behind the hand covering his mouth, “Illya?” There was no response. _Dammit_.

 

When he had returned home after running his errands, he had called the Russian’s apartment again and gotten no answer. _I don’t understand it; if he were in trouble, I swear I would feel it. He’s not in trouble; he’s…keeping secrets from me. But, why?_

Just then, Margie returned from the ladies’ room and he pushed the subject of Illya from his mind to deal with the subject at hand: A night of romance with a delectable blonde.

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Wednesday morning came and Napoleon Solo reported to work at 9AM. He stopped in the Commissary for his morning cup of coffee and then headed for his office. The door slid open to reveal his partner sitting at his desk writing notes on a pad.

 

“Napoleon, good to see you! Did you enjoy your time away from the office?”

 

“Illya! Yes, I spent some time with a lovely young lady I met in the supermarket. What did you end up doing?”

 

“Relaxing, mostly; something I had not realized I was missing until I was doing it. In fact. I have asked for and Mr. Waverly has approved my taking some of my accumulated leave.” At Napoleon’s raised eyebrows and look of surprise, Illya said, “Do not be alarmed; he has also approved two weeks’ vacation for you, too, if you want it and I would really prefer you take it so I do not have to worry about you going into the field without me.”

Napoleon scowled. “Well, aren’t you sweet to be concerned,” he replied sarcastically, “I don’t suppose this vacation you want me to take involves spending any time with you, does it?”

 

“No, it does not. I…”

 

“I know,” Napoleon cut him off, “You already have plans.” He sat at his desk and pulled mission reports out of his “IN” box to read. He tried to concentrate but was finding it difficult. _This is driving me crazy_. He put the report he had been trying to read back on his desk. “Illya,” he said quietly, “why are you not trusting me? Have I done something to make you lose your confidence in me?”

 

Illya stopped writing and looked up at his partner. “Napoleon, you are being ridiculous; I trust you with my _life_.”

 

“You don’t trust me with _something_ , Tovarisch. What is it?”

 

“Really, Napoleon, there is nothing to discuss. Our partnership is fine. What we do have to do is clear our desks of paperwork before Friday. Look this over; the Old Man wants us to oversee treaty negotiations between the government and some would be insurgents in Belize. He only mentioned it to me because I was in his office already.”

 

The CEA took the file proffered by the Russian and perused it quickly. “Yes, Mr. Waverly did mention this to me last week as a possible mission for us. It is fairly cut and dried; hopefully, this is only a three day affair.”

 

The Russian nodded and said, “That is my estimate, also. Mr. Waverly said our vacations will start close of business a week from Friday. Are you going to take the time, Napoleon?”

 

Napoleon smiled thinly, “Far be it from me to have you worrying instead of ‘relaxing.’ I’ll head to Florida; one of my buddies from my unit in Korea lives in Tampa and gave me a standing invitation to visit.”

 

Illya stood up and gathered up the notes he had been working on. “Excellent idea. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a meeting in the lab. I’ll see you later.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

For once, the mission in Belize that they thought would be fairly uneventful proved to be exactly that. In fact, they came back to New York a day earlier than expected. Napoleon was, at first, mildly shocked that the Russian invited him out to dinner and drinks that first night back. When Illya suggested a movie the next night, he was pleased. By the fourth night, Napoleon knew exactly what was going on. _He’s spending all his free time with me now so I won’t “feel neglected” when we’re on separate vacations. If he wasn’t keeping secrets from me, I would be touched_.

 

Friday morning, Napoleon showered and dressed for work. He packed his toiletries and shaving kit into a small bag along with a change of underwear, a sweater, and a pair of jeans. _Just in case_ , he thought.

 

When he arrived at the office he shared with his partner, he was relieved to see it empty. _He must be meeting with the staff in the labs. Good._ He put the content of the bag into his briefcase and put the bag under his desk and got to work. Mark Slate and April Dancer, as Numbers 3 and 4 in Section II, would be in charge while Illya and he were gone, so they had to be read in on current assignments and briefed on upcoming affairs so that they could best match the agents to the jobs. Illya and he were meeting with them and Mr. Waverly at 3 o’clock. 

 

Illya came into the office at 12:45. “Napoleon, I was hoping you would be here! Let’s have lunch, I’m starving.”

 

“Okay, Partner but, let’s just go to the Commissary; I want to make sure I finish up everything I planned to before the end of the day.”

 

“Great minds think alike; I was going to suggest the Commissary.”

 

Napoleon stood up. “Let’s go.”

 

As they headed downstairs Illya asked, “When are you heading to Florida?”

 

The lie slid off Napoleon’s tongue like warm butter. “I’m on the 9AM flight to Tampa tomorrow. Cody’s picking me up.” He stepped into the food line first and grabbed a roast beef sandwich and a bag of potato chips. “What about you? Do your _‘plans’_ include traveling outside of the City?”

 

Illya was right behind him with a tray loaded down with a tuna hero, bowl of minestrone soup, a salad of iceberg lettuce and tomatoes and a slice of chocolate cake and two glasses of lemonade. “Outside of Manhattan, yes,” was the vague answer. “Let’s sit with Dale and Peterson.” Illya stepped around the taller man and headed straight for the two seated agents without waiting for Napoleon’s answer.

 

 _Is he going to Little Odessa by the Sea, otherwise known as Brighton Beach, Brooklyn?_ he thought quickly before joining his partner at the table where the conversation shifted to sports and he never got an opportunity to get the Russian to expand his answer.

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

At 6PM, Illya checked his watch and said, “it is official, my friend: I am on vacation.”

 

Napoleon signed off on his last report, placed it in his “OUT” box, pointed to his empty “IN” box and responded, “As am I, Partner Mine. Care to have a drink before we go our separate ways?”

 

“You know I hate long goodbyes.” He stood up and walked to the side of Napoleon’s desk. “Let us take leave of each other here.” He stuck out his hand for Napoleon to shake. “I will see you in two weeks, Tovarisch. Take care of yourself. I am sure with all the beautiful women wearing bikinis on the beach you will have your hands full, so to speak.”

 

Napoleon stood as well and shook Illya’s hand. He smiled warmly at his best friend and said, “I promise I will not bite off more than I can chew. Let’s walk out together.”

 

They handed their badges into the receptionist and exited through Del Floria’s. When they reached the top of the stairs, Napoleon hailed a cab. “I assume you have to go home first; I’ll drop you off.”

 

“Spacibo, Napoleon. Thank you.”

 

When they arrived in front of Illya’s apartment building, he got out and stuck his head in the window. “Thank you again. See you later.” With that, he smiled and bounded up the stairs and through his front door.

 

Napoleon had the cab drop him off around the corner at a deli he frequented where he knew the owner would let him use the bathroom. He changed quickly and took up a vantage point down the block that afforded him a view of the front of Illya’s building. After forty minutes, he was rewarded with the sight of the Russian exiting his building carrying a beat up piece of luggage. _Well, I know what your Christmas present will be this year_. 

He knew how Illya checked for tails and was able to avoid being seen while following him to the E train station. They rode from West 4th Street to 34th Street – Pennsylvania Station. Napoleon observed the Russian buying a ticket, waited about two minutes after he left and then, walked up to the ticket agent. “Excuse me, Miss, can you tell me where the long – haired blond man who was just here is going?”

 

The ticket agent looked into his eyes. “I normally don’t do that; is this some type of official business?”

 

He allowed his features to harden ever so slightly. Napoleon Solo was a charming man, especially to women but, he was also an UNCLE Section II agent, by definition a dangerous man and he showed some of that danger to the woman in front of him. He flashed his ID and said coldly, “It is.”

 

The flustered woman looked through the papers in front of her as quickly as she could. “The man bought a ticket on the 9PM train to Plattsburgh, New York. It arrives at…4AM.”

 

“What time is the next train there?”

 

“Six tomorrow morning. It arrives at one o’clock in the afternoon.”

 

“I’ll buy one roundtrip ticket.” He slipped money into the tray. When he got the ticket, he said, “Thanks” brusquely and walked away. She was glad to see him go.

 

 _It’s good that I don’t have to follow him tonight. I know exactly where he’s going. Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll find out_ why _he’s going._


	6. Chapter 6

Eddie Case, also known as Illya Kuryakin and Luba Baranova, the former Lutgard Schwarz, walked into Dickey’s Barbeque Pit holding hands around seven o’clock Saturday evening for dinner and were greeted enthusiastically by Eunice, the head waitress.

 

“Hey, guys! How you doin’? Eddie, you favorite booth is empty and waiting for you. I swear, you and Navarre act like someone is after you the way you always want to sit facin’ the door all the time.”

 

That comment made Illya stop in his tracks. “Eunice, what made you think of Navarre?”

 

“He was here for lunch, Honey! Came in about 2 o’clock, had a pulled pork sandwich and iced tea. That is one good – lookin’ man!”

 

“Not for long,” Illya mumbled. As they sat in the booth he said in his normal voice, “I will have my usual. Luba?”

 

“I think I would like to try the fried chicken dipped in barbeque sauce, corn on the cob, cole slaw and lemonade, please.”

 

Eunice finished writing their order on her pad, said “You got it, Hon” and then headed to the kitchen.

 

Illya put his elbow on the table and placed his chin in his hand. “That is something else I love about you; you are not afraid to eat. So many women I know seem to eat nothing but salads and melon and you look better than all of them.”

 

Luba mirrored his posture and gazed into his eyes; gray meeting blue. “ _Schatz_ , are we going to talk about my eating habits or are we going to discuss the fact that Napoleon is here? Navarre _is_ Napoleon, _ja_?”

 

Illya grinned at her. “ _Da_ , that is Napoleon.”

 

She reached over and took one of his large hands into both of her delicate ones. “Do not be angry with him. You knew this day was coming.”

 

Illya sighed, “Honestly, I am surprised it has been so long in coming. Look, Eunice is coming. Let us enjoy our dinner and then we will deal with ‘Navarre.’”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Napoleon had driven his rental to a wooded area about a mile and a half from Wolf Schmidt’s house where he pulled it into the woods and hid it with branches. He had walked until he reached the edge of the tree line where he had put black camouflage paint on his face and hunkered down with a pair of binoculars to survey the house. He watched his partner and a woman exit the house, get into a car and drive away. He waited five minutes to see if they would come back and then walked up to the front door, pulled his Walther and knocked.

 

“Who is it?” a familiar voiced called.

 

“Napoleon Solo.”

 

The door opened a crack to reveal half a face that stared at the man on the outside and then closed so the door chain could be released. The door swung wide to reveal Wolf Schmidt. “Come in, Napoleon.”

 

Napoleon walked in, looked around quickly and holstered his Walther. At the same time, Wolf was tucking his Luger into the holster that held his gun between his shoulder blades. “I see neither one of us wished to take chances. How are you, Napoleon? Please come and sit down.”

 

Napoleon sat on the couch. “I saw my partner leave your house with a woman. What the hell is going on, Wolf?”

 

“That was my sister. I will let them tell you what is ‘going on’ with them but, I will answer other questions you may have. I am not your enemy here.”

 

Napoleon nodded his head and asked, “How long has Illya been coming up here?”

 

“About four months. He is here at least twice a month, sometimes more depending on your work schedule.” Wolf went into the kitchen and returned with two glasses and a bottle of one hundred year old scotch. He poured two generous drinks and handed one to Napoleon.

 

“I have a confession and a question for you, Napoleon. I told you a long time ago that I did not believe the rumors that you and Illya are lovers but, it seems a small part of me _does_ believe it so, I ask you: Are you and Illya in any way, shape or form involved in a physical relationship? Is that _your_ wedding ring he is wearing?”

 

“That wedding band used to belong to his father. Illya and I are closer than brothers, we do love each other and we trust each other with our lives. We have cried and laughed together and seen each other in situations we hope no one else ever sees us in but, we are _not_ lovers.”

 

“Good, because my sister and your partner _are_ and I do not wish to see her hurt. So, if you are not here as a jealous or jilted lover, why _are_ you here?”

 

Napoleon flushed slightly. “Well, ah, I knew Illya was being secretive; something he had never been with me before. I had to find out why.”

 

Wolf laughed and picked up the scotch bottle and freshened their drinks. “I _knew_ you were a curious man! Let us hope curiosity does not kill the cat.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

The two lovers were sated, not by sex, but by a large, filling Southern style meal. They had split a slice of pecan pie and now sat with Illya holding Luba’s hand in his and gazing into her eyes. “Have I told you that your eyes were the second thing I noticed about you after your hair?”

 

The woman laughed; making a sound that Illya delighted in hearing and responded, “How in the world did you notice my eyes? I was in a _coma_!”

 

“Your eyes were partially open…I could see they were beautiful.” Illya, not for the first time, thought Luba was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen or taken to bed. _I have not been this happy with a woman in a very long time. The times we have been together have been magical. Oh, Napoleon, please do not ruin this for me_ …He felt Luba’s fingernails lightly scratching his palm. “Yes, Luba?”

 

“You just frowned. Why did you do that; did it have to do with Napoleon?”

 

“Yes, it did.” _Bozhe moi, she is beginning to know me well_. “Are you ready to go home?”

She nodded and stood up. Illya reached around her to grab her coat and then, he held it out for her. Once she had it on, he put on his coat and they walked out, waving to Eunice as she took orders at another table.

 

Illya unlocked her car door and held it open until she got in and then he locked it and closed it. He smiled as he walked around the back of the car to see her reach over and unlock his door, one of the many things she did that endeared her to him. He got into the driver’s seat and pulled out his communicator. He looked at her, grinned and said, “Here goes” and turned the device on. “Open Channel S.”

 

The trilling of his communicator interrupted Napoleon’s conversation with Wolf. He opened it as he motioned for him to be quiet. “Solo.”

 

“Where are you, Napoleon? And, before you attempt to lie, I should tell you that Eunice in the barbecue place said you were there for lunch today.”

 

“Oh? Ah, in that case: I am sitting in Wolf Schmidt’s living room.”

 

 _He goes too far! He goes too_ far! It took a great effort on the Russian’s part not to yell into his communicator. In a voice dripping icicles, he replied, “I will be there in twenty minutes. Out.” He pulled the device apart and jammed it together so hard, for a second he thought he had broken it. He looked to his right. “I guess you will meet my partner tonight but, he and I have much to talk about so I ask you to indulge me and give us privacy.” He picked up her left hand and kissed it.

 

“Of course, Illya, I will not interfere and neither will Wolf.”

 

Twenty minutes later, Luba and Illya walked into her brother’s house. Illya slowly and deliberately helped Luba out of her coat and then removed his. She took both coats to the closet and hung them up. When she returned, they walked hand in hand into the living room where Wolf and Napoleon sat.

 

As Napoleon stood up, Wolf made the introduction. “Napoleon Solo, it is my pleasure to introduce you to my sister, the former Lutgard Bowler Schwarz, now known as Luba Baranova, a German of Russian descent.”

 

Luba extended her hand and said, “I have heard lovely things about you, Napoleon.”

 

He smiled broadly when he took her hand and kissed it. “I wish I could say the same but, I’m sure we will get to know each other…better. Wolf, your sister is quite beautiful.” He could feel Illya’s anger coming off him like radiating heat. He looked into the Russian’s eyes. “Illya.”

 

“Napoleon.” Illya turned to Wolf, “If you would excuse us, I’d like to take Napoleon into the basement so that we may talk privately. Is that alright with you?”

 

“Of course. You know where everything is, Illya. There is a bar down there, Napoleon, you two might want to talk over drinks.”

 

Illya nodded and indicated that Napoleon should go ahead of him. “Do not be concerned if you hear noise or raised voices,” he said as he shut the basement door behind him and followed Napoleon down the stairs.

 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Napoleon started to say as he turned to face Illya, “I know you’re surprised…” He was cut off by a punch in the mouth. Swallowing blood and the urge to retaliate, he growled, “I hope you got whatever it is out of your system because if you do that again, we will be fighting.”

 

Illya walked passed him shaking his right hand. He sat in the leather recliner and shot daggers at Napoleon with his eyes. “I will let you know. So, _moi droog_ , you lied to me about going to Florida, obviously followed me to Penn Station and then here. What did Wolf tell you?”

 

“That you have been coming here for the last four months and you are seeing his sister. He said he would let you fill me in on the rest.”

 

The Russian asked, “Do you remember me asking Wolf to keep me informed about his sister’s progress?” When Napoleon nodded, he continued, “He called me every week not only to let me know how Luti was doing but, also to vent and talk out his feelings. He felt the social worker and psychiatrist were extremely helpful for her but, he did not feel comfortable sharing his thoughts with a total stranger. They met with the professional counselors together on a daily basis so he could help her adjust to her new life. She still goes for an hour and a half five days a week in addition to the two hours of physical therapy she insists upon doing.”

 

“About four months ago, Wolf called to say that Mr. Waverly felt it was time for his sister’s new identity to be put in place and that he and Luti had thought this identity should be someone other than his sister in case THRUSH ever came looking for them again. She suggested that since she was fluent in Russian, she could be a Russian born in Germany who learned English in school to explain her German – accented English. He asked me if I would come and speak with her to determine if her Russian language skills were good enough to pass as a native speaker.”

 

“When I walked into the house to meet her, she smiled and said ‘I remember you! You were next to my brother when I woke up; you fed me ice chips.’ I cannot explain it; I liked the sound of her voice immediately. We spoke in Russian for hours; at first, I was only doing what Wolf had asked me but, eventually I was speaking to her to get to know her.” 

 

“I told Wolf her new identity would be a good fit as her Russian is flawless. As I was getting ready to leave, she invited me back. Our relationship began to grow from there.”

 

Napoleon, sitting on the couch rubbing his sore jaw, asked, “And you felt that you couldn’t tell me any of this because…why?”

 

“Mimi Doolittle.”

 

Napoleon was nonplussed. “ _Mimi Doolittle_? Who the devil is Mimi Doolittle?”

 

“She was the Innocent in the cell with us during the “Foxes and Hounds” affair. I was about to kiss her but, you turned her around and kissed her instead. From that moment on, it was as if I no longer existed to her.”

 

Napoleon leaned forward in his seat. “Did, ah, did you like her, Illya?”

 

“Did you care?”

 

Napoleon could feel his face turning red under the unblinking stare of his partner. “Oh God, Illya, I didn’t think…”

 

“No, you did NOT think!” the Russian shouted. He stood and began pacing on the area rug while he took a moment to get back under control. “You did not think, Napoleon,” he repeated in his normal speaking voice, “you just did it. Kissing women, seducing them, it is all a game to you. It never occurred to you that maybe I liked her or that maybe I had wanted to kiss her all along. We got out of there and as usual, you took her home, spent the night with her and then never gave her a second thought. But, what hurt me, though I got passed it, is that you never gave _me_ or my feelings a second thought.”

 

Napoleon hung his head as he listened. _My God, he’s right_. He cleared his throat and admitted it aloud. “I wish I could say you were wrong or defend what I did but, I can’t. You should have punched me in the face _then_.” He stood and went to stand directly in front of his partner. “I’m sorry, Illya. I am truly, truly sorry that I treated my best friend so shabbily for no other reason than to feed my ego. Forgive me?”

 

The Russian stood up and hugged Napoleon. “I forgave you a long time ago,” he said softly. He let go and moved behind the bar where he grabbed two glasses from the overhead rack, got ice from the fridge for Napoleon’s scotch and pulled a bottle of vodka from the freezer for himself. “However, I have not forgotten what you did. Mimi meant something to me but, nowhere near what Luba does. That is why I did not want you to know about or meet Luba too soon.”

 

Napoleon took the drink Illya proffered. “Because you were concerned I would do something similar?”

 

“You already started your seduction! ‘I am sure we will get to know each other _better_ ,’” Illya mimicked, “’Wolf, your sister is so _beautiful.’_ _That_ is why I became so angry and hit you. You watched us walk in holding hands, something you have _never_ seen me doing and it was like Mimi Doolittle all over again. Do not ruin this for me, Napoleon, our friendship would not survive.”

 

Napoleon placed his right hand over his heart and stated, “I swear on my life that I will not do or say anything to Luba that you find inappropriate. You are my best friend and I don’t want to mess that up.” He held out his hand. “Let’s shake on it.”

 

Illya broke into a half – grin and took Napoleon’s hand and gave it a firm shake.

 

Napoleon leaned against the bar and watched Illya as he refilled his glass and went back to the recliner to sit. “Illya, are you in love with her?”

 

This time, the smile was full on and lit up his face. “I seem to be heading in that direction, da. I am moving very slowly; she is still learning to cope with all the changes that have occurred in her life. I do not wish to push her but, yes; she has been responsive to me.”

 

Napoleon raised his glass. “To love and friendship: May we always have both.” He tapped Illya’s glass with his own and they drank. He looked at his friend and said, “I hope she realizes how lucky she is, Tovarisch.”

 

“I am the lucky one. Let us go back upstairs and show them we did not kill each other.”

 

Luba and Wolf were talking quietly in the kitchen when the basement door opened to reveal the two agents; one of whom was sporting a swollen lip. Wolf looked from one to the other and smiled. “I take it you two have hashed out your differences?”

 

Illya answered, “All except one. Napoleon, I did not see any car other than Wolf’s when we pulled up to the house. How did you get here?”

 

Blushing, Napoleon replied, “Ah, I hid the car about a mile and a half away and then walked here.”

 

“Good, then that is how you will leave. Call me when you get to the car so we do not worry.”

 

Sheepishly, Napoleon looked at Wolf and Luba for sympathy. The twins’ very similar features were both contorted in a poor attempt not to laugh at his predicament. “Well, ah, I guess I deserve it. At least, I can walk along the road this time.”

 

Wolf got up and retrieved Napoleon’s coat from the closet. As he was putting it on, Illya asked him, “When will you be returning to the City?”

 

“Tomorrow on the noon train. Luba, it was good to meet you. Wolf, it was good to see you. Illya, just so you know, I am not a _total_ liar. I’m going to Florida Monday morning. Enjoy the rest of your vacation.” With that, he left.

 

Luba hugged Illya as he watched his partner through the window making his way down to the main road. “Your friend is a good man, Illya.”

 

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged back. “Yes, he is.”


	7. Chapter 7

_Four Months Later_

 

Napoleon was in the basement shooting range practicing with his UNCLE rifle. Though he preferred using his Walther as a pistol, sometimes only a rifle would do and since the P – 38 converted into a rifle, it behooved him to be as proficient with it as with his handgun. He finished shooting the clip and when he brought the target in to inspect, was pleased to see a neat little circle where all his bullets had entered the target. _Let Illya top_ that.

 

Ever since he had left Plattsburgh four months ago, Napoleon had watched his usually introverted partner blossom. Well, “blossom” compared to how he had been. He was still the consummate professional, was still the only person Napoleon trusted to be by his side on a mission. He was still as deadly and focused on performing his job as he had ever been. But, there were little changes, small enough that if you did not know Illya well, you would not notice them. Napoleon knew Illya very well.

 

 _He smiles more. He seems lighter, like the weight of the world is no longer on his shoulders. He is a little slower to anger._ People were still speculating about what Illya Kuryakin did when he went off – duty but, now Napoleon knew again so all was right with his world. 

 

The intercom sounded and interrupted his reverie. “Napoleon Solo, please report to Mr. Waverly’s office immediately. Napoleon Solo, to Number One’s office ASAP.” He stepped to a phone on the wall and called the Old Man’s office. When Miss Rogers answered, he told her to tell him he was on his way from the range. He threw on his jacket and headed for the elevator bank, disassembling his weapon on the way.

 

When the door to Miss Rogers’ office opened, his gun was holstered and he placed its attachments on a table. She smiled and said, “Go right in, Napoleon.” Without breaking stride, he moved passed her and through the door to Mr. Waverly.

 

“Oh, Mr. Solo, good of you to get here so quickly. Sit down, please.” Mr. Waverly was holding one of his many pipes but, it was unlit and empty. _Oh boy_ , Napoleon thought, _he usually does that when he has something disturbing to share_. When he had taken his usual seat, his superior continued. “I spoke with Dr. DeChiara earlier. Agents LaSalle and Sloan are back in the rehab center.”

 

The beginnings of an icy – cold knot of dread began to form in the pit of his stomach. “What happened to them?”

“Agent Sloan collapsed during his physical therapy session. At first, it was thought that it was due to over exertion but, a battery of tests revealed that the new pathways in his brain that were formed as a result of the treatment protocol were breaking down and starting to fail.”

 

 _Oh, God_. “And Agent LaSalle?”

 

“Well, when they discovered the cause of Sloan’s illness, they contacted LaSalle immediately. His family lives outside of Buffalo and wanted him to do his physical therapy there. When the center contacted him, he had not experienced any difficulties and Dr. DeChiara was hopeful that he would not. Unfortunately, fifteen days after UNCLE contacted him, his sister found him unconscious in the basement of his parents’ home. Once the local hospital found it could not determine what was wrong, the rehab center was contacted and arrangements were made to have him flown back to Cadyville.”

 

Napoleon interjected, “And, testing revealed he had the same problem as Agent Sloan?”

 

Mr. Waverly sucked on his pipe. “Yes, sadly,” he answered, “both men were given another round of treatment but, neither has enough brain function left for it to do anything.” His intercom buzzed and he answered it with an annoyed “Yes?” He listened for a moment and then said to Napoleon, “Please bear with me, Mr. Solo, I must take this call. Don’t leave.”

 

As Mr. Waverly talked on his phone, Napoleon’s mind was reeling from the implications of what he had heard. _Illya; I don’t know what this is going to do to him. He has to be told and Wolf, too. For Wolf to see his sister go back into a coma_ …He pulled himself away from what he was thinking when he heard the phone receiver placed back in its cradle with a click.

 

The Old Man stuck his pipe back in his mouth for a moment and then placed it on his desk in front of him. “Agent Sloan is dead. His brain ceased to function and Dr. DeChiara thought it best to remove him from the respirator. Agent LaSalle is also brain – dead; his father is there with him. They will remove the respirator after the rest of his family has a chance to arrive at the center and say their goodbyes.”

 

Napoleon slumped back in his chair and ran his hand across his face. “How much time elapsed between their first being administered the drug protocol that woke them to their relapse and death?”

 

“Just under sixteen months. And, Miss Baranova woke up from her coma ten months ago. Mr. Solo, I am aware that Mr. Kuryakin has become… _friends_ with Wolf Schmidt’s sister. He needs to be informed, as does Mr. Schmidt, that in all likelihood, Miss Baranova has approximately only six months to live. They need to prepare themselves for what lies ahead. What is the status of Mr. Kuryakin’s current mission?”

 

“Communications had informed me that he reported during his last check – in that he made the courier drop successfully and was heading home on the next flight,” Napoleon replied as he checked his watch. “He should arrive at HQ by 8PM.”

 

Mr. Waverly nodded, stood up and walked to his window and gazed out at the City that stretched out before him. “He needs to be told tonight, Mr. Solo. I do not want him going to Plattsburgh this weekend not knowing what has transpired. Tomorrow is Friday; leave orders for Mr. Kuryakin to come to your home when he leaves HQ. News such as this should not be imparted in the confines of a sterile office. Both of you will have tomorrow off, so you can break this news in any way you like without worrying about reporting for duty.”

 

“Yes, Sir.” Napoleon was slightly stunned by the casual way the Old Man had let him know that he _also_ knows what Illya Kuryakin does when he goes home. _I can never underestimate this old fox_. “Ah, Sir, if Illya decides to go upstate this weekend, I’d like permission to go with him.”

 

“I surmised as much, Mr. Solo. I have already alerted Mr. Slate and Miss Dancer that they may have to cover for you. I suggest you spend the next few hours preparing to not be in the office for a few days, just in case. I will leave it to your discretion to decide when Mr. Kuryakin and you must return to work. The task I have given you is most difficult but, I am sure you will handle it tactfully and sensitively. Take care of your partner, Mr. Solo. Dismissed.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Illya came off the flight at LaGuardia Airport in an upbeat mood. His mission had been short and successful and while he had been waiting for his return flight, he had wandered into one of the duty – free shops and bought a perfume for Luba. Thinking of her wearing it (and nothing else) made the flight go by quickly and him happy and anxious to see her that weekend. _She wants to see a James Bond movie to see what I do for a living. She just will not believe it is not that glamorous_. He shook his head and smiled at the memory of that conversation as he hailed a cab and gave the location of an intersection two blocks from UNCLE HQ as his destination. As the cab pulled away from the curb he thought, _We can go to the movies Saturday night_.

 

He paid the fare and walked to Del Floria’s. It was the night the cleaners stayed open late so he did not have to use the after – hours entrance. He smiled at Glenna the receptionist and even allowed her to pin his badge on him, something he never did and he chuckled as he heard her pick up her phone as he moved passed her; guessing that she was calling a friend somewhere in the complex to brag that the Russian had actually let her touch him.

 

He didn’t expect to see and therefore, was not surprised that Napoleon was gone for the day. He sat at his desk and grabbed his mail from his “IN” box to thumb through. One interoffice envelope had his name written on it in his partner’s barely decipherable but, unmistakable handwriting. He tore it open, pulled out a sheet of paper and read, _Illya, when you leave work, report to my apartment. I have to see you. Hate to pull rank but, this is an order, not a request. NS_

 

He read it twice. _How odd_ , he thought. He pulled out his communicator and then put it back in his pocket. _Whatever this is, he wants to discuss it in person. So be it._ He dropped the rest of his mail back into the “IN” box and pulled out a mission report form to place in his typewriter. _The sooner I get this done, the sooner I’ll find out what he wants_.

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Illya knocked on Napoleon’s door using the code they had devised to inform the other one that all is well. They had a different coded knock that meant “I’m being coerced so stand ready.” Fortunately, they had never had to use that code on the doors to their homes.

 

“Come on in, Illya!” Napoleon called from the kitchen. Illya opened the front door and got a whiff of something very good coming from the stove. He walked in just as his partner was pulling a pan with a roast chicken and potatoes in it from the oven. “I assumed you would like some dinner.”

 

“You assumed right, Tovarisch. What else are we having?” the Russian asked as he washed his hands in the sink and pulled the vodka he knew was there out of the freezer. “Two bottles in the freezer, Napoleon? On a school night?”

 

“We have tomorrow off, my friend and, as for the rest of the meal, there is sautéed baby spinach with bacon crumbled on top, a _caprese_ salad of tomatoes and fresh mozzarella, herbs, olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and rolls. Hungry? Help yourself; everything is ready.”

 

Illya was indeed hungry and began to eat his dinner with gusto. He paid little attention to the fact that Napoleon ate just a little bit of food, barely a spoonful of anything. _Everyone eats less than I do_ , he thought as he sopped up juices from his plate with a buttered roll.

After dinner, Napoleon cleaned up his kitchen while Illya sat at the counter and watched. He could tell that his partner was preoccupied with something. _It must be what he wants to talk to me about; probably a mission that will cancel my weekend plans_. When Napoleon had dried the last dish, he asked, “So, what is so important that you had to order me to come here and then feed me an amazing dinner?”

 

Napoleon grabbed an old – fashion glass and filled it with ice. Picking up his scotch, he indicated that Illya should get his vodka. “Let’s go into the living room.” When they had settled onto the couch, Napoleon said, “Mr. Waverly gave me bad news today: Agent Sloan is dead. “ 

 

“That is a tragedy, Napoleon. He overcame so much. I am sorry.”

 

“There’s more. Agent LaSalle is brain – dead; as soon as his family is able to say their goodbyes, he will be taken off his respirator. Illya…”

 

“No.”

 

“Illya…”

 

“I said _no_!” The Russian came off the sofa like he had been shot out of a cannon. “Do _not_ tell me Luba faces the same fate! I will not hear that!” He strode to the window and looked out at the city lights. 

 

“I am so sorry, Illya. I would rather cut off my right arm than see you this hurt but, you have to know: Based on what happened to LaSalle and Sloan, Luba has about six months left.” He watched as the words he spoke hit Illya like body blows. 

 

Illya was facing the window but, he wasn’t seeing anything outside. He was imagining that his spine had been replaced by a steel rod. That is the only thing keeping me standing. _Luba, Luba, how can this be happening to you? To me? I was just daring to dream about an_ us. He moved closer to the bottle he had placed on the coffee table. Reaching for it, he unscrewed the cap and swallowed deeply. The burn made his eyes sting and him gasp for breath as the liquid moved down to curl up in his stomach. He knew Napoleon was silently watching but, didn’t care. _Luba is going to die!_ His legs started moving toward the bathroom almost before his mind recognized that he was going to vomit. He vaguely realized there were footfalls behind him. He skidded to his knees, stuck his head almost in the toilet and was sick until he had dry heaves. His body continued to betray him as he broke down in great, heaving sobs.

Napoleon had run behind Illya to the bathroom and rubbed his back while he threw up the contents of his stomach and then some. He handed him a paper cup of cold water mixed with Listerine to cleanse his mouth and then he got down on the bathroom floor behind Illya and pulled the Russian to his chest and quietly rocked him as he cried out his shock, fear and heartbreak. His mind raced back to when his wife died. _I never thought I would think her sudden death a blessing but, compared to this, it is_. His arms briefly tightened around his partner and then he relaxed as Illya’s sobs got softer until he was just leaning against Napoleon.

 

After a minute, he got up, stood at the sink and splashed cold water on his face. After he grabbed a hand towel and dried his face and hands, he reached down to pull Napoleon to his feet. He gave him a quick one – armed hug, whispered, “Spacibo,” and exited the bathroom to flop on the living room couch. Napoleon walked past him into the kitchen.

 

A few minutes later, he returned carrying a tray with cheese, crackers, hot tea, jam and fruit. He put it on the coffee table and sat next to Illya. “Here’s another order, Tovarisch: You will stay here tonight. No arguments.” He took the silence that followed as acquiescence on the Russian’s part. “Partner Mine, I realize you are still trying to come to grips with the terrible news but, Wolf needs to be told, too.” At Illya’s look of horror, Napoleon said, “We can go upstate together; tell him together.”

 

Illya pursed his lips and tried to think clearly. _I am an UNCLE Section II agent, I have been trained to focus and I will. I can do this_. He checked his watch and responded, “I have a better idea.” He reached for the phone and dialed a number. After four rings, it was answered. 

 

“Wolf Schmidt.”

 

“Is Luba anywhere near you? Do not say my name.”

 

“No, she went to the movies with Eunice. Said something about not wanting to make you jealous while she drooled over Sean Connery. Is something wrong?”

 

“Yes but, nothing I can discuss on the phone. I cannot come upstate this weekend; however, I must see you. It is urgent. Can you come to New York tomorrow?”

 

“Yes, yes, of course, if you insist.”

 

Illya’s shoulders relaxed; he hadn’t even realized how much he had tensed up. “Good but, you cannot tell Luba you are coming to see me. Lie if you have to but, _do not tell_ her. Will that be a problem?”

“Not at all. I was actually telling her I might go away for the weekend; I’ll just leave a little earlier. She will be disappointed that you won’t be coming. She has a surprise for you. I will make your excuses, do not worry. I will be in Manhattan no later than 3PM. Should I meet you at UNCLE HQ?”

 

Illya looked at Napoleon. “No,” he answered, “Meet me at my place. See you tomorrow.”

He hung up and leaned back with his hand over eyes. “I think this is a discussion Wolf and I should have alone. We are the closest things to friends he has and he and I have formed a bond over the last year. I hope I have not offended you.”

 

Napoleon actually looked relieved. “Not at all. I don’t envy you this, Partner. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do.”

 

Illya stood up. “I think it is best that I go to bed. I will see you in the morning.” With that, he headed to the guest bedroom.

 

“Goodnight, Illya,” Napoleon called. He sat a few more minutes and then gathered up the tray, bottles and glasses and took everything to the kitchen and put it away. As he walked down the hall to his bedroom, he could hear Illya crying softly as he passed the guest room. He raised his hand to knock on the door but, decided against it.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, Napoleon padded into his kitchen to find Illya sitting there unshowered, unshaven and looking positively miserable. He patted the Russian’s shoulder affectionately as he moved past to begin making coffee. Illya smiled but, said nothing.

 

“How does bacon, eggs, waffles and toast sound, Tovarisch?”

 

“My stomach is still a little queasy; I want nothing to eat.”

 

“Then I will make you plain toast and tea. And, again, this is not a request.” He softened a bit when he saw the forlorn look in the Russian’s eyes. “Illya, this is going to be another hard day for you. You need to pull yourself together to be the strong one for Wolf. When he goes back home, you’ll have me for support; he’ll have no one.” He placed a plate of wheat toast in front his partner along with a cup of tea and some raspberry jam. “Eat.”

 

The Russian growled, “Do not mother me, Napoleon, I am not a child.”

 

The American snarled back, “And, I am not your mother. I am your partner, senior agent and the Chief Enforcement Agent of UNCLE North America and as such, it is my duty and my job to take care of you and make sure you are prepared for the mission you are being sent to accomplish. You have been dealt a severe emotional and psychological blow that you _have_ to set aside to stand strong for a former high – ranking THRUSH official with whom you have developed a relationship because said former high – ranking THRUSH official continues to feed UNCLE pertinent information that Mr. Waverly wants. Therefore, you _will_ be as prepared as you can be to meet with Wolf Schmidt this afternoon. So, you _will_ eat breakfast.”

 

Chastised, Illya silently reached for a slice of toast and began to eat. Napoleon watched for a few seconds, grinned and then began to prepare his own breakfast. “And, you may not leave here until after you have eaten lunch.”

 

If Illya had a comment, he kept it to himself. 

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

When Illya left Napoleon’s apartment after lunch, he had to admit to himself that physically, he did feel better. And, of course, Napoleon had noticed. _Napoleon is so smug when he is right_. He had stopped on the way home to pick up cold cuts and bread for sandwiches and a six pack of Beck’s for Wolf.

Five minutes to three, his buzzer rang. He assumed it was Wolf but, his Walther was in his hand anyway as he looked through his peephole waiting to see who stepped into the hallway from the stairs. When he recognized the German, he holstered his weapon and unlocked his door. Wolf walked in and looked around. He smiled at the large number of books written in English, German, French and Russian that were in, on and around a four – shelf wooden bookcase that looked like it had seen better days. He unbuttoned his coat as he turned and stuck out his hand, “Hello, Illya.”

 

Illya shook it and motioned for Wolf to give him his coat. “Please have a seat. Are you hungry?”

 

Wolf sat on the couch and replied, “No, I ate lunch on the train. I would like water if you don’t mind.”

 

Illya brought him a glass of water and sat down. “Wolf, something has happened.”

He told him everything he had found out the day before. As he expected, Wolf was devastated. Illya rubbed his back as Wolf struggled, and mostly succeeded, in maintaining some semblance of control. He moved away when Wolf cleared his throat to speak.

 

“I do not want Luba to know,” he said forcefully.

 

Illya nodded. “We agree; good. I want her to enjoy the rest of her life without realizing the Sword of Damocles is hanging over her head.” Illya stood up and began pacing with Wolf watching. Finally, he stopped and faced the man on the couch. “I have something else to tell you.”

 

Wolf blanched. “ _Mein Gott_ ,” he breathed, “What else?”

 

“It is nothing bad, Wolf. I have not said this to Luba and, I was not going to, because it would have been unfair but, now everything has changed.”

 

“I am in love with your sister, Wolf. I love her and, I want to marry her, if she will have me.”

 

Wolf was shocked. “Are you asking me for my blessing?”

 

“Yes. No. I do not know! You know what I do; I was not going to say anything to her about my feelings because I did not wish for her to put her life on hold waiting for a man whose life is sometimes measured in seconds. It never occurred to me that _she_ …that she would be the one with the shortened life. I have never even asked her to be exclusive; for all I know, she could be seeing other men.”

 

“She sees no one else. I believe she is in love with you, too. You make her happy, Illya. She has told me this.”

 

Illya pursed his lips and looked at the ceiling. _I do not know how this will all work out; I am just making this up as I go along_. “What I have told you I have told no one, not even Napoleon. If Luba agrees to marry me, we will elope immediately but, I will remain in New York City for work while she continues to live with you. I would continue to spend all my free time with her. It seems I am not asking for your blessing; I am asking for you to support her and whatever she decides.”

 

“Of course I will! Regarding your work, are you saying that you will not resign from UNCLE or, at least, take a six month leave of absence?”

 

“I cannot leave Napoleon to go into the field without me,” Illya replied quietly, “If something were to happen to him…No, no, I cannot risk losing them both. It would break me, Wolf. I think it would kill me.”

 

Now, it was Wolf’s turn to think about what he was hearing. _If he is the man I think he is, what I’m about to tell him will make no difference_. “Luba no longer lives with me, Illya. I gave her half the account numbers to the Swiss bank accounts; she bought a house three kilometers from mine. She plans to surprise you the next time you come see her.” He took a deep breath. “If she marries you, you will be a very rich man with no need to work at all.”

 

Grimacing, the Russian said, “I will be a very rich man if your sister becomes my wife. I do not care about her money. I will not leave the field. If she insists that I must, I will have no choice, but to withdraw my proposal.”

 

“I don’t think you will have to do that.” Checking the time, Wolf said, “I have to leave if I am to catch my train.” He put on his coat Illya handed him and then hugged him and kissed him on both cheeks. “Thank you, my friend, for telling me this horrific news face to face. We will stand together to ensure that Luba enjoys what time she has left however things work out between the two of you. _Auf weidersehn_.”

 

After he relocked his door, he used his communicator to contact Napoleon.

 

“Ah, Illya, are you okay?”

 

“I admit, Napoleon, I have been better. Wolf was understandably upset but, all things considered, he took the news better than I did. Would you mind if we did not go back to work until Tuesday? I want to go to Plattsburgh.”

 

“You want me to go with you?”

 

“No, thank you, I will be fine.”

 

“Well ah, you take the time off and I’ll go in…”

 

“ _Nyet_ , Napoleon! Please, if you go to work, then I will go with you. I know it is not rational, but the past twenty – four hours have been anything but rational for me and I just could not handle it if some…,” he swallowed and could not finish. _Why am I becoming so emotional?_ he thought. 

 

“Tovarisch, it’s alright, I’ll stay home. I’ll do some paperwork if I get bored but, I promise, no fieldwork. If Mr. Waverly calls, I will call you.”

 

“Thank you; I will see you Tuesday. Kuryakin out.” 

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

The next morning, Illya called Wolf to tell him he was coming upstate and could he ask Luba to meet him at the train station at 3PM. When he stepped off the train, the first thing he saw was Luba. She was wearing a dark gray coat and matching fur – trimmed hat that made her light gray eyes stand out beautifully. The combination of seeing her looking so attractive and the knowledge of what was coming drove him to move quickly to sweep her into his arms and kiss her deeply. He broke off the kiss and just held her close. One hand moved to the back of her head as he turned into her neck and gently kissed her there.

 

“My goodness, Illya! You act like you have not seen me in months! I like it!” Luba said as she laughed and took his hand to lead him to her car. “I have a surprise to show you before we go to Wolf’s, OK?”

 

Feigning ignorance, he replied, “What is it?”

 

She smiled. “You’ll see.”

 

Forty – five minutes later, Luba guided her Mercedes onto a private drive for about one hundred – fifty yards before an impressive ranch – style house came into view. She pulled up to the garage and parked in front of it.

“Who lives here?”

 

“I do! Come inside!”

 

He followed her up the porch to the front door where she pulled a set of keys from her purse, unlocked the door and led him inside. They stepped into a foyer where they hung up their coats. They entered the living room. “This is beautiful, Luba,” Illya stated as he looked around at the fireplace in the corner, the cathedral ceilings and the large windows that overlooked a creek that flowed through the property. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Perhaps, you could show me the bedroom?”

 

Her smile was dazzling. “I thought you would never ask.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Illya Kuryakin was an accomplished UNCLE agent. Every graduate of Survival School took classes in the art of seduction and every agent was prepared to perform sexually, if need be, to accomplish a mission. He had learned years ago how to separate his mind and soul from what his body was doing or having done to it. Agent Kuryakin locked his emotions and passions in a far corner of his mind when duty called for him to perform.

 

But, Luba Baranova was not in bed with Illya Kuryakin, the agent; she was in bed with Illya Kuryakin, the man. The man who had unlocked that mental door to let his passions and emotions run wild and free. The man who had been struck by her beauty while she lay comatose in a hospital bed and had hoped the protocol would work for her. The man who had come to realize that he was in love with her and who knew her time was growing shorter every day. The man who was making love to her like he would never have the opportunity again. The man who pleasured her to climax twice before mounting and entering her to achieve his own release.

 

They laid there in a tangle of sheets, arms and legs; sweaty and satisfied. Illya leaned over to kiss her nose. “I have a suggestion,” he said.

 

“Does it involve acrobatics? Because I don’t think I have the strength right now,” she deadpanned.

 

“Cute,” he grinned as he softly slapped her behind. “I suggest we nap for a couple of hours, then I will take you out to eat and then…” His smile widened.

 

“What? And then… _what_? Come back here to bed?”

 

“Eventually, yes but, first, maybe we could find a Justice of the Peace to marry us.” Illya watched her eyes widen in shock.

 

“You…you want to _marry_ me?” she asked as she sat up to look at him.

 

“ _Da_ , very much. I have seen how short life can be and I have come to realize how precious it is. How precious _you_ are to me. But, I do have to tell you that, on the surface, our relationship would appear not to have changed.”

 

That caused her to pull up her knees, wrap her arms around them and lay her head upon them. “What does that mean?”

 

“I would continue to live in New York City while you would stay here. It would be safer for you that way. I would continue to spend all my free time with you. You know what I do for a living; agents are not encouraged, shall we say, to marry and have families. I would be breaking protocol to be married to you so I think it would be better if my employer were not told, at least, for the time being.”

 

Luba pursed her lips and softly blew out air as she thought. “So, no one would know that we were married?”

 

“Wolf would know. I spoke to him about my intent to ask you to marry me. I wanted him to know how I felt. He told me he would support whatever you decide to do.”

 

Her eyes filled with emotion as she searched his face. “You spoke to my brother about this?”

 

He grinned. “I did. Yesterday.” He seemed earnest and sincere. 

 

She reached a decision. “Ask me, Illya.”

 

He got up on one elbow so he could look into her face. “Luba Lutgard Bowler Schwarz Baranova, will you marry me this night?”

 

She smiled down at him and answered, “Yes, Illya Eddie Case Kuryakin, I will marry you tonight.”

 

“I love you, Luba.”

 

“I love you, Illya.”


	9. Chapter 9

_Three Months Later_

 

Napoleon sat next to the bed in Medical that held his partner. Their last mission had ended in a firefight that was almost the death of Illya. He had just set the last explosive to blow the satrap when a squad of THRUSH security spotted him and opened fire. He had been shot three times before Napoleon could extract him. He was able to field – dress the wounds before tenderly placing him in the rental and racing back to the Boston field office where they were able to stabilize him. Fortunately, the UNCLE chopper was available to fly them from Boston, Massachusetts back to New York’s UNCLE HQ where he went straight into surgery. That had been two days earlier. Napoleon had only left Illya’s side to use the bathroom. The Russian had finally awakened hours earlier but, had fallen back asleep when he saw Napoleon there.

 

Napoleon looked at all the machines that were helping Illya heal and monitoring his vital signs. _It was way too close, Partner._ He rubbed his face with a shaky hand and looked with disgust at his dirty, rumpled suit. _The Old Man is going to give me grief about the expense report_. Just then, his communicator trilled. “Solo.”

 

“Mr. Solo,” Mr. Waverly’s clipped British voice emanated from the pen – like device, “Report to my office immediately.”

 

“Ah, Sir, I’m in Medical with…”

 

“Now, Mr. Solo!” his superior cut him off, “Now.”

 

“On my way, Sir.” Napoleon stood and patted Illya’s hand. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Partner Mine.” As he exited and headed for the elevator bank, he thought, _Something must be wrong, he sounded really pissed_.

 

Miss Rogers waved him on through and then followed. When he entered, he noted that Wolf Schmidt and Luba Baranova were seated at the round table. He smiled and nodded at them both and took his seat. _This seems a little odd. Why would he pull me away from Illya to see them?_

 

Mr. Waverly looked at his guests and said, “Miss Rogers will escort you to Medical while I speak with Mr. Solo. Miss Rogers, if you please.” She smiled and showed them out the door. When the door closed, he glared at his Chief Enforcement Agent and said, “I demand an explanation, Mr. Solo.”

 

“Sir?”

 

The bushy eyebrows knit together. “Do not play coy with me! Why was I not informed that Mr. Kuryakin had married Luba Baranova? Or rather, Mrs. Kuryakina?”

 

Napoleon was completely gobsmacked. His mouth opened and closed. _Married? Illya and Luba are married?_ “Mr. Waverly, I had no idea! None at all!” _I can’t believe he would do this and not tell me; what the hell is going on with him?_

 

Just then, the intercom buzzed. Mr. Waverly answered it and listened, said “Let him back in, then” and looked towards the door. 

 

Wolf re – entered and quickly said, “Gentlemen, please, Illya and I agreed not to tell Luba about what will happen to her. Do not tell her. He and I also agreed not to tell you two about the marriage for reasons he can explain. I have to go; she will become suspicious if I dawdle and want to know what is happening.”

 

The Old Man seemed somewhat mollified. “We will not mention it to her.” Wolf bowed his head briefly and went back out. Mr. Waverly looked back at Napoleon, “So you were as in the dark as I was. You remained in contact with Mr. Schmidt, did you not? And, he never even hinted?”

 

Leaning back in his seat, Napoleon responded, “Yes, Mr. Waverly and no, not a clue. In fact, he called me two days ago and I had told him that Illya had been gravely injured but, was expected to fully recover so he could tell Luba so she would not wonder why she had not heard from him.”

 

Mr. Waverly lit his pipe and puffed until a small cloud rose above his head. “Apparently, when he told his sister, she insisted that she be brought to Mr. Kuryakin’s side immediately. Imagine my surprise when she told me they were husband and wife. Well, since you didn’t know, I won’t berate you further.”

 

“Thank you, Sir. Dr. James told me that Illya will be out of work for approximately eight weeks and will be on light duty another two. I was going to bring him home with me but, I’m assuming now that Luba will take him home to Plattsburgh?”

 

“That is exactly what she plans to do. He can receive his physical therapy at our rehab center there just as well as here. My concern is that Mr. Kuryakin has obviously gone down a path neither you nor I were privy to. Mr. Solo, I want you to get to the bottom of this. Find out what else, if anything, your partner has kept from UNCLE and determine if Mr. Kuryakin should remain with the organization.”

 

“Yes, Sir.” He turned on his heel and left. He mind was swirling with questions and mixed emotions. _How could he not tell me something so important? If The Old Man fires Illya, he would have to return to the USSR! He could be killed. I’m his best friend! Illya, what have you done? Why would you trust Wolf over me?_

 

He arrived back at Medical and entered Illya’s room. He was pleased to see that Illya’s eyes were open and they were focused on Luba ( _his wife!_ ) who was sitting next to him holding his hand and speaking to him softly in Russian. Wolf had looked up to see who was entering. When he saw Napoleon, he smiled and said, “We are waiting for Dr. James; he has not been in, yet.”

 

Napoleon sighed with relief. “Good. Please do not tell Dr. James or anyone else that Illya is your husband, Luba. I will make arrangements for Illya to get upstate.”

 

Luba said, “I understand, Napoleon; it is not wise for many people to know but, what will you tell Dr. James?”

 

“As little as possible.” He pulled his communicator out and called Mr. Waverly. “Sir, can you contact Dr. DeChiara and let him know that Illya will be heading there today as an in – patient for a few days and then as an out – patient for rehab?”

 

“Yes, of course, Mr. Solo. I will take care of that now.”

 

Napoleon smiled, “That will be perfect. Thank you. Solo out.”

 

“Ah, Dr. James, these are friends of mine and Illya’s. They have arranged for a medi – jet to fly him upstate as I’ve made arrangements for Illya to be released to the rehab facility in Cadyville to convalesce.” 

 

“He won’t be staying with you? I’m a little surprised.”

 

“I will not be available,” Napoleon replied tersely as he stared the doctor down. He hoped the Medical Director would take that as his way of telling him to mind his own business. It apparently worked.

 

The doctor shrugged. “Would you like me to arrange for our ambulance to take him to the plane?”

 

Wolf spoke. “Yes, that would be very helpful, yes. The plane is at Teterboro Airport in New Jersey.”

 

Napoleon held the door open for the doctor and Wolf. “Luba, you stay with him and have someone call us when he is ready to be moved. We will be in my office.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

“Wolf, I’ll be going back and forth upstate to see Illya as often as I can. I hope you won’t consider that a problem.”

 

“Absolutely not! I expected you to do so. In fact, you are welcome to stay with me whenever you like.”

 

“How is Luba? Really?”

 

Wolf sighed, “It is hard to imagine there is anything wrong but, according to Dr. DeChiara, Agents Sloan and LaSalle exhibited no signs of trouble before their collapses. I make sure she keeps all her doctors’ appointments; she is in top shape according to all test results. I am praying for another miracle as is Illya but, we have resigned ourselves to not always having her around. How are you doing?”

 

“What do you mean, Wolf? I’m fine.”

 

“Napoleon, I think you are beating around the bush, again. I think you are at least angry and possibly hurt that Illya did not confide in you. I will not make his excuses for him but, I will tell you this: He had his reasons and he considered them good ones. He does love you and he values your friendship.”

 

Before he could answer, Napoleon’s phone rang. “Solo.” He listened for a minute and then hung up. “The ambulance is ready to move Illya.”

 

Napoleon escorted Luba, Wolf and the gurney with Illya on it to the garage level of the building. The Russian was awake though he had not said much at all. When the medics were about to lift him, he held up his hand and said, “Wait. Luba, Wolf, a little privacy, please?” 

 

After they got into the ambulance and the medics put some distance between them and the two agents, Illya motioned for Napoleon to move closer. “I know what you are thinking and it is not true, _moi droog_. I did not tell you I married Luba because I did not want you to know or did not trust you; it was because I did not want to put you in the position of choosing between loyalty to UNCLE and loyalty to me. If you chose loyalty to me, you would have faced Waverly’s wrath. If you chose loyalty to UNCLE, you could have ordered me not to break protocol and I still would have married her and that would have irrevocably damaged our partnership. I could not take the chance that my choices could lead to the downfall of your career or our relationship.”

 

Napoleon smiled and carded his partner’s hair away from his face. “I appreciate that, Partner Mine but, I still have to say that I was a little hurt to hear the news from someone else. And, the Old Man and I have to know: Are there any other secrets you are keeping? You know, he is really peeved about this whole business.”

 

Illya grabbed Napoleon’s hand and patted it gently. “No, I promise you there are no other secrets. I should be able to get around on crutches in a week or so. Come visit. The house has two extra bedrooms; I expect you to be in one of them.” He motioned for the medics to come lift him. Just as they were about to, he stopped them again and said, “Napoleon, when Mr. Waverly asks why things were done the way they were, please tell him: Sometimes it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” With that, he was put into the vehicle. 

 

As he watched the ambulance head to the exit and then merge with traffic, Napoleon thought _I do forgive you, Illya. Hopefully, Mr. Waverly will, too._


	10. Chapter 10

_Six Weeks Later_

 

“Illya, I have to tell you, Partner Mine, that Mr. Waverly _still_ is not completely over this ‘marriage business’ as he calls it. It is probably a good thing you are not somewhere he can get to you easily, like my apartment or your place.”

 

The two agents were sitting in the living room of the home Luba had bought earlier in the year and that now served as her and Illya’s marital home. It was late spring and Illya was still recovering from gunshot wounds he had sustained four weeks earlier. He had been in excellent shape and was healing faster than the doctors had anticipated. He was still not well enough to return to duty but, he was able to move around better and had already started physical therapy. It was Friday afternoon and Napoleon was spending the weekend.

 

“I know, _moi droog_ ,” Illya sighed, “I spoke with him at length yesterday regarding my immediate future with UNCLE, among other things. He told me that you and Wolf have been pleading my case ever since my marriage came to light. He did admit that the circumstances were highly unusual so, he will more than likely consider the matter closed.”

 

“’More than likely?’ What did he mean by that?” Napoleon asked.

 

Illya sat up a little higher on the couch so he could see through the patio doors. Luba was about six feet from the end of the patio measuring a plot in which she intended to grow herbs for the kitchen. Comfortable that she was out of earshot, he answered, “If the doctors at the rehab center are correct, my wife only has six weeks, more or less, to live. The Old Man feels that any punishment beyond that would just be cruel.”

 

Napoleon resisted the urge to move from the recliner to the couch to hug his partner. _He’d probably punch me for getting too emotional_. “How do you do it, Illya?” he inquired softly. “How can you be with Luba day after day and not let on that something is wrong?”

 

Illya smiled ruefully and took a sip of vodka, his painkiller of choice. “This helps,” he said as he held up the glass. “I also work on getting better and stronger, I talk to Wolf, I talk to you, sometimes I cry. I will not lie and say this is easy; it is not but, Napoleon, everyday, I am more and more convinced that I did the right thing for Luba and for me. I love her and so does her brother. If we had told her months ago that her days are numbered, she would have lived the rest of her life in fear; thinking it was the end every time she felt a headache or heartburn or _anything_. That is no way to live. Her death is coming and she doesn’t know it. Just like the rest of us.”

 

They sat in comfortable silence, each glad to be near the other. A few minutes later, Luba walked out of their line of sight and Illya assumed she was walking around to the front of the house to put her gardening tools back into the garage. Sure enough, the men heard the door swing open between the garage and the kitchen. They heard the water turn on and off in the utility room off the kitchen and a moment later Luba Kuryakina strolled in holding a bottle of Beck’s beer in her hand.

 

“Boys, I am not in the mood to cook. How about I get us barbeque from Dickey’s?”

 

The Russian stood up carefully to give his wife a hug and kiss. “I have a better idea; how about we all go to Dickey’s. Napoleon can drive. We’ll call Wolf and make an evening of it, _da_?”

 

Napoleon clapped his hands together. “Great idea! Luba, why don’t you call your brother and ask him if he wants me to pick him up or meet us there?”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Forty – five minutes later, they were sitting in their preferred booth in the back of the restaurant drinking sweet tea and waiting for Eunice to bring the mountain of food they had ordered. Illya noticed Luba examining her glass and smiling. “My love, the tea is especially pleasing to you tonight?”

 

“Yes, haven’t you noticed it’s not as sugary as it normally is? I like it better this way.”

 

Illya kissed her nose and replied, “I thought so but, I was not sure.” _This tea tastes exactly the same! What is happening_?

 

Wolf glanced over at Napoleon but, said nothing. Napoleon had been thinking that he should have gotten the lemonade because the tea was so sweet, it was setting his teeth on edge but, knew enough not to offer his opinion.

 

Eunice came over with a large tray balanced on one hand and a tray stand in the other. She expertly opened up the stand and placed the tray upon it. “OK, people; Luba, you have the barbeque chicken; Eddie, here’s your ribs with extra potato salad; Navarre honey, you have the ribs and cole slaw and Wolfie sweetie, you have the fried chicken dipped in Dickey’s Secret Sauce. And, I got your biscuits right here in this basket along with hot sauce and extra napkins. Enjoy your dinner!”

Illya, as usual, attacked his meal with the single-mindedness he always exhibited while eating so, he did not notice what Wolf and Napoleon saw, at first.

 

“Luba,” Wolf said, “is something wrong? I thought you were hungry.”

 

“I was but, I should have ordered the fried chicken; this doesn’t seem to be too tasty.”

 

“No?” her brother replied, “Here, let’s switch; take a piece of my chicken.” They traded thigh for thigh and Luba happily bit into it but, grimaced after chewing for a few seconds. 

“I don’t know why but, this doesn’t taste right to me either. I must be coming down with a cold or something.”

 

Instantly concerned, Illya put his fork down and felt her head. “You do not feel warm,” he observed. “When did you start noticing things did not taste the same?”

 

She waved her hand, “I don’t remember,” she answered, “Not too long ago. Stop fussing over me, _liebling_ , I am fine.”

 

Wolf had already gotten Eunice’s attention. “Luba is not well, so may we have take – out boxes for our food?” When his sister started to protest, he stated, “It is fine, we’ll just eat at your house and then Napoleon can take me home.” She shrugged and did not argue which in and of itself, concerned Illya greatly.

 

 _If she were feeling one hundred percent_ , he thought, _she would not give in so easily_. “Maybe it is not a bad idea to take the food home; that was your original thought, was it not?”

 

Just then, Eunice arrived back at the booth with take – out containers for everyone. “Feel better, darlin’. I’m sure it’s not the food ‘cause me and those guys in the kitchen been eatin’ this stuff for years and we’re all healthy as horses.”

 

“Thank you, Eunice, I’m sure I’ll be fine. You know how protective of me Eddie is; if I were to sneeze right now, he would probably rush me to the ER.” She did not see the look her three companions exchanged.

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

“Napoleon, I don’t know if Illya has mentioned his conversation with Mr. Waverly to you…” Wolf said hesitantly. He was sitting in the passenger seat of Napoleon’s rental. They had dropped Illya and Luba off at home and now Napoleon was taking Wolf to his house.

“He did but, he only told me that he and our employer had reached an understanding about the marriage.”

 

Wolf sighed and went silent. When Napoleon pulled up in front of his house, he asked, “Do you have a few minutes? Would you like to come in?” The response was Napoleon cutting off the engine and exiting the car.

 

They sat in the living room with German beer and slices of Red Dragon cheese to munch. “I have a key so, I’ll let them have some privacy for awhile before I head back,” Napoleon said as he popped a slice of cheese into his mouth, enjoying the mustard – like taste and the sensation of the seeds bursting as he chewed. He took a swig of beer and asked, “Why did you bring up Illya’s conversation with Mr. Waverly?”

 

Wolf opened another beer for himself and passed one to his guest. “Illya told me that he has requested that when, when…when he _needs_ you, you will be given time off to help him cope.”

 

Napoleon stared. “Of _course_ I’ll be here for him. That really goes without saying. What else did he tell you?”

 

“It is best that I leave that for him to tell you. I will tell you this: He is frightened, Napoleon. He is terrified of losing her; much more so than I am.” At Napoleon’s surprised look, he commented, “Remember, she had been in a coma for five years. I have already grieved her loss. I had hoped she would live a normal life span but, I consider it a blessing to have gotten my sister, my twin, my _Luti_ back for lo, these many months and to know she has been happy in her new life and yes, even to know, to hope, that she does not go back to the living death of a coma but will die like Agents Sloan and LaSalle.” He looked down at his hands. “For Illya, it has been a curse.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

After Napoleon had dropped them at home and driven away with Wolf, Illya and Luba went into the kitchen. “Illya, darling, I know you are hungry. Please, eat. I will eat too; I will eat the cole slaw. You know how much I like it.”

 

She took the containers, plastic utensils and napkins out of the bag while Illya watched her. _Look how she puts the food in front of me_ , he thought. _It is funny; the only two people who have ever truly been concerned about whether or not I need to eat are Luba and Napoleon_. He watched as she gamely tucked into the food in front of her and forced his features to remain neutral when realization struck. _She cannot taste it! If I comment again, she may become suspicious about my concern_. 

“Oh, Illya, this is good, would you like some?”

 

“No, my love, I am happy with my potato salad. Would you like some of my ribs?” _She is lying; she does not want me to worry_. When she turned down his offer, he thought, _I do not think she can handle meat with no taste_.

 

Illya made short work of his meal and Luba finally finished the slaw. He cleaned off the table and took the garbage outside. When he returned, Luba hugged him and said, “I am tired, I think I will turn in now.”

 

Illya hugged her tight for a moment and said, “I have some reading I would like to do but, first, I want to lie with you until you fall asleep. Would you like that?”

 

“ _Ja_ , Husband, I would.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Illya gently moved away from Luba so as not to disturb her rest. Once he stood up, he moved around to her side of the bed and kissed her forehead gently. He was struck once again by how beautiful she was, and the notion that she might be only days away from death caused his chest to feel constricted with fear even as his heart swelled with love for her.

 

He walked into the kitchen to get his vodka from the freezer. As he was pulling a glass down from the cabinet, he heard Napoleon’s coded knock and then the key turning the lock on the front door. He watched silently as Napoleon came into the kitchen.

 

“Hey, Tovarisch, I saw the light on, I thought you and Luba would be sleeping by now.”

 

“Luba is sleeping. I stayed with her until she fell asleep.” He got another glass and held it up to his partner. When Napoleon nodded, he got ice for it and pointed to the cabinet that held the Chivas Regal scotch his partner favored. “Tomorrow, I’m calling Dr. DeChiara to ask him to find out whether Sloan or LaSalle complained of losing their sense of taste or any other symptoms prior to their demise.” He drained his glass and put it on the counter. “ _Moi brat_ , may I ask for something?”

 

Napoleon said, “Of course, Illya. What do you want?” He moved a little closer when he saw the Russian’s shoulders slump dejectedly.

 

“A hug. Please.”

 

Without a word, Napoleon closed the distance between them and pulled the smaller man into a bear hug. _You are my brother_ , he thought. _I’m here for you, I love you and I will help you get through this_. After a moment, he patted Illya’s back and leaned back to look at the blond’s face. “Better?”

 

Illya smiled shyly, said “Yes, thank you” as he let go and went into the living room to sit on the couch.

 

Napoleon followed and sat next to him. “Illya, what else did you discuss with Mr. Waverly? Wolf mentioned that there was something you need to tell me.”

 

Illya laid his head on the back of the couch and looked up at the vaulted ceiling for a few minutes. “I did something very stupid. I told Wolf about it and he told me what he would have done if one of his subordinates had approached him ‘spouting the same nonsense’ to quote him. I would rather you hear this from me first than from Mr. Waverly. Napoleon, please understand. To say the least, I have been living under a cloud ever since you told me about LaSalle and Sloan. This entire situation has brought back my fears of being abandoned. I think that is one of the reasons I married Luba. It was my desperate way to try to hold on to her, as if the fact that she is my wife will somehow keep her alive even though I know I have no control over what is happening and will happen. I felt that I did have some level of control over you, Napoleon so, I let my fear overcome my common sense and…and I asked Mr. Waverly to pull you from the field.”

 

Illya watched as different emotions played across his partner’s face. Shock, disbelief, embarrassment and then, finally, anger. Napoleon’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward whispered irately, “How dare you! You had no right to do that! What did Mr. Waverly say?”

 

“He was livid,” the Russian replied. “He said he was appalled that I had the temerity to ask for such a thing but, do not worry, your field status is secure. And, for what it is worth, I _am_ sorry for overstepping my bounds. It was an idiotic thing to do. My only excuse is that I am convinced that if anything happens to you and then, I lose Luba, I will become…What is the expression? A basket case?”

 

Napoleon had calmed down listening to what Illya had to say. He moved to sit next to Illya and bumped him with his shoulder. “Tovarisch, listen to me. There are no guarantees in life; we both know that but, I also believe that things happen for a reason. If Ludwig Bowler had not captured us on Jost Van Dyke, he wouldn’t have had a contact when he wished to defect from THRUSH. If we hadn’t helped him rescue his sister, she would still be in a coma. If we had not found out about Sloan and LaSalle, you would not have married her. Even your getting shot when you did has afforded you the opportunity to spend a lot of quality time with your wife that you otherwise would not have had.”

 

“Illya, all of that to say that I believe things play out the way they are supposed to and it makes no sense to worry about ‘what ifs.’ If you do, and right now, you are, you are only making yourself even more miserable. You are strong and getting stronger everyday. Your wife loves you, _I_ love you and neither one of us wants to leave you but, sometimes, it’s not our call. So, just enjoy us while we’re here.”

 

The Russian listened to what his partner was saying. _He is right. I cannot allow my fears to run and ruin my life and what is left of Luba’s_. “Thank you, my friend,” he said sincerely, “I promise you I will not let my fear control me again.” He punched Napoleon in the shoulder, laughed and then stood and stretched. “I am going to bed and hold my wife and be happy for the opportunity. Good night, _moi droog._ ”

 

“Good night, _moi brat_.”


	11. Chapter 11

_Three Days Later_

 

Napoleon walked into his penthouse at 8PM Monday night and threw his coat across his couch. It had been a long day; Mr. Waverly had indeed apprised him of the conversation he had with Illya last Thursday and Napoleon had to tap dance like crazy to assure the Old Man that the Russian, though stressed, had not lost his mind and was still fully committed to returning to the field as soon as Medical cleared him.

 

He poured himself three fingers of scotch and settled into his recliner. He toed off his shoes and put his feet up on the ottoman. He planned to spend the next couple of hours reviewing Section II agents’ expense reports. _Mr. Waverly is lucky; he just has Illya’s and my reports to review_. He began looking over April Dancer’s report. _Twenty – five dollars for handkerchiefs? Really, April?_ Just then, his phone rang. “Hello?”

 

“This is Illya. I just got off the phone with Dr. DeChiara. He had checked the records this morning of both agents and neither had reported anything unusual. So, he contacted the social workers who, in turn, spoke with LaSalle’s family and some friends of Sloan. LaSalle’s sister and one of Sloan’s friends confirmed both men had complained to them of dulled taste buds or food not tasting good. Sloan’s friend could not remember the timeline but, Agent LaSalle’s sister is certain that the first time he complained was about a week and a half to two weeks before his collapse.”

 

“I am so sorry, Partner. What can I do to help?”

 

“You have already helped me, Napoleon. I am enjoying Luba while she is still here. On a much brighter note, the doctors at the Rehab Center think I can return to work, at least in the labs, in four weeks and go back out to the field in six.”

 

Napoleon smiled. “That is great news, Tovarisch. You have definitely been missed at work.”

 

There was silence for a moment and then the Russian replied, “I have missed work, too. Thank you for visiting last weekend, Napoleon. Luba said to tell you hello.”

 

“Tell her I said hi. Take care, my friend.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

_Five Days Later_

Napoleon Solo and Mark Slate were sitting in the conference room of the UNCLE London HQ putting the finishing touches on their mission report. Originally, escorting the spoiled seventeen year old daughter of the Israeli Ambassador to Great Britain from Tel Aviv to London had been Mark and April’s assignment but, April was sporting an Ace bandage on her right ankle as a result of severely twisting it while stepping off a curb. They had left her in New York doing paperwork and terribly embarrassed.

 

“I will be so thrilled to be back in New York, mate,” Mark sighed as he signed off on his half of the report. “’Ow anyone puts up with a teenager is beyond me. That little boy – crazy tart tried to chat up every boy she came across and even some men! You sure she’s not related to you, some’ow?”

 

”Very funny, Mark. I can be funny, too. Your next assignment…” He was interrupted by the trilling of his communicator. “Solo.”

 

Mr. Waverly’s voice came through the device. “When are you two planning to return to New York?”

 

“Ah, we have tickets on the 10AM flight tomorrow morning out of Heathrow into JFK; we should land 11AM your time.”

 

“Mr. Slate will be on that flight, Mr. Solo; I want you to book yourself onto a flight to Plattsburgh International Airport. I received word earlier that Mrs. Kuryakin was, unfortunately, discovered by Mr. Kuryakin unresponsive and she is on life support in our rehab center. Mr. Kuryakin asked me to tell you: He is alright. You do not have to call him but, he is waiting for you.”

 

“Thank you for telling me that, Sir.”

 

“Waverly out.” A click let Napoleon know the call had ended.

 

 _My poor Illya_ , he thought as he put his hand over his eyes. Mark grabbed his shoulder and squeezed gently. 

 

“Napoleon, am I to understand that Illya is _married_? And, his wife is on life support? Cor, blimey!”

 

“Yes but, please Mark, the circumstances were very,,, _unusual_ , to say the least. No one can know, not even April. _I_ didn’t know until he had been married for awhile. I know I’m asking a lot and I _am_ asking, not ordering you to keep a secret from your partner. Will you do it?”

“Aye, mate, I will keep it to me self. I swear, I won’t even tell April.”

 

Napoleon sighed in relief. “Thanks, Mark. I just don’t think Illya could handle a lot of prying questions about all this.” He reached for the phone on the conference table and called the Travel Office of Section II to inform them of his change in itinerary and requested booking on the next flight to either Plattsburgh International or Montreal, Canada, which is only an hour’s drive away.

 

He signed off on his half of the mission report and handed it to Mark. “Don’t forget to make a copy for the London office before you take it to the Old Man.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Napoleon. I’ll take care of everything. Just take care of your partner.” 

 

The phone rang and Napoleon answered. It was Travel confirming Napoleon on a midnight flight to Plattsburgh arriving 1:30AM local time. “Thank you,” he said quickly as he hung up. “Mark, I have a flight in four hours. I have just enough time to change, pack and get to Heathrow. See you later.” And with that, he was gone.

 

 _Leave it to Solo and Kuryakin…I hope everything works out_ , he thought with a wry grin.

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Illya and Luba had had an amazing day. He had awakened feeling more like himself than he had since being shot. Luba woke up about ten minutes later and when she returned from the bathroom, she had leaned over him provocatively and kissed him in a way that left no doubt about her intentions. They spent the next two hours exploring each other’s bodies, their actions more sensual than sexual until Illya had brought his wife to completion. He held her as she gasped out her pleasure and afterwards as her breathing and heart rate returned to normal. When she said, “Turnabout is fair play,” he was electrified as she began to kiss him passionately as she moved her mouth down his body. When she reached his core, he cried out her name again and again as she made love to him until his orgasm threatened to shake him apart.

 

They dozed off and on until their stomachs demanded attention. “You take your shower first, my love,” Illya murmured into Luba’s ear.

 

“Why don’t we shower together? That would be fun.”

 

“Because,” he said before lifting one of her breasts and kissing it, “If we do that, we will starve because the sight of you wet and beautiful would be too much for me to ignore.” He smacked her bottom lightly. “Go.”

 

Illya drove to a diner they liked. Through trial and error, they had discovered that eggs still tasted like eggs to her so, Illya made sure that their breakfast was the biggest meal of the day. He smiled as he watched her consume the “Lumberjack Breakfast” special of three eggs, pancakes and toast. He ate the sausage that came with it because she couldn’t stand the texture or tastelessness.

 

Afterwards, they drove to Wolf’s house where they watched TV, talked and played Scrabble in the basement until the game broke down amid Wolf and Illya’s humorous claims that Luba had cheated because she had added “xeno” to Wolf’s word “phobia” to take the lead and the game.

 

“If I had known you were such a ruthless Scrabble player, I would never have married you," Illya teased.

 

“And, I would have disowned you a long, long time ago!” Wolf added laughingly. 

 

She stood and stretched like a cat. “Oh, please! You both know you love me!”

 

Wolf stood and hugged her close. “I _do_ love you, Luti! _Ich liebe dich_ ,” he whispered fiercely.

 

When Wolf let her go, he was immediately replaced by Illya. “ _я люблю тебя, моя жена. я люблю тебя навсегда_ , I love you, my wife, I will love you forever,” Illya avowed.

 

She kissed him and said, “Boys, I know you were only kidding! No need to be so serious! I’ll get us some beers from upstairs.” She walked over to the stairs and just before she went up, she turned and said, “I love you both so much!” before bounding up the steps and into the kitchen. A moment later, they heard and felt a thud and in their hearts as they raced up the stairs, they knew what they would find.

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

Napoleon pulled the rental car into the driveway of Illya and Luba’s home. It was 2:30 in the morning and he was not surprised that the living room lights were on. He gave his coded knock and unlocked the door. Walking in, he found Wolf and Illya sitting on opposite ends of the couch, each man with a glass in front of him on the coffee table. Illya got up and walked over to his partner and hugged him hard.

 

“Dr. DeChiara called around 10PM to say there is no longer any brain function. Wolf and I decided to take her off life support in the morning. I was hoping you would be here for me.”

 

Napoleon hugged him back. “Of course. I am so sorry, Partner Mine.” He stepped away from the Russian to acknowledge Wolf. “Wolf, hello. How are you doing?”

 

Wolf took a sip of his drink. “Better than my brother – in – law, I think. He is refusing to take what is rightfully his. This house, the money in the Swiss accounts… We knew this day was coming…”

 

Illya picked up his glass and threw it against the wall. “I do not _want_ it!” he shouted. “Tomorrow morning, we go to remove Luba from life support! That is all I am concerned about!” Visibly shaken, he looked at the two men in front of him and said, “Wolf, I told you that I would consider myself a rich man if your sister married me. Napoleon, I know you have an appreciation for the finer things in life but, that is not important to me. Wolf, I would really rather that you kept this house and the money; I do not care about any of it.”

 

The German stood and walked to where the Russian was standing. He took hold of Illya’s shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks. “It is alright, Illya, I will take care of the property but, know this: You are my family. All you have to do is call and the money is yours to do with as you will.” 

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

There were two memorial services. The first one was held five days after Luba Baranova died suddenly of an apparent heart attack while on a date with her boyfriend, Eddie Case. Her good friend, Wolf Schmidt, who was also the executor of her will, organized it and held it at her home. Besides Wolf, Eddie and his best friend Navarre Solange, it was attended by the few friends she had made since relocating from Germany including Eunice and Dickey from Dickey’s Barbeque. 

 

Eunice broke down as she spoke about how much Luba loved their “girls’ nights out” and how much Luba loved Eddie. “Eddie, she told me she felt like she was destined to meet you. You made her very happy,” she managed to sob out before throwing her arms around him and crying. “I’m going to miss her so much!”

 

Eddie kissed her cheek and whispered, “Me, too, Eunice. Me, too.”

 

Afterwards, Eddie scattered some of Luba’s ashes around the property. He gave some to Eunice who said she would scatter some in front of the barbeque joint where they had shared so many memories. When Eddie thanked Eunice and Dickey for coming, he told them that he would not be coming back anymore which made Eunice cry again though she understood why she would no longer be seeing him.

 

The second service was held two days later at Wolf Schmidt’s home to honor the memory of Lutgard Bowler Schwarz Kuryakina. It was organized by her widower, Illya Kuryakin and his best friend Napoleon Solo and was attended by Dr. DeChiara and the rest of the medical team that had worked with her at the UNCLE Rehab Center along with Mr. Waverly and her brother, Ludwig Bowler.

 

This service was much more emotional than the first because there were no masks to hide behind, no alter egos to parade in front of acquaintances; just a heartbroken man saying goodbye to the woman he loved and lost way too soon.

 

Ludwig spoke eloquently about his twin sister and how much they had depended on each other growing up and how a horrible car accident had robbed him of what was left of his family. “But, then several miracles happened. First, I met Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin in the usual way THRUSH and UNCLE agents meet and for some reason, I felt I had some connection with Napoleon. Then, when I decided to defect, they chose to help me. When my dear Luti was kidnapped, they stepped in to help save her. At that point,” he smiled slightly at the memory, “the biggest miracle was that Illya and I had developed a grudging respect for each other.” Illya snorted softly at that.

 

“After that, more miracles piled up; more than I could have hoped for; a new identity, a new life and then, the best miracle of all for me: Luti was brought back to me through UNCLE research.”

 

“Mr. Waverly, I thank you again for keeping a promise to a former THRUSH Central Committee member. And, although the protocol ultimately didn’t work, it was by no means a failure. My sister got a second chance at life. And, thanks to Illya, she got a second chance at love.”

 

“My dear, and you _are_ my dear brother – in – law, you and Napoleon were away on assignment at some point and Luti and I were having dinner. She told me that she had loved Karl Schwarz and the life they shared but, it was nothing like the love she felt for you. Karl’s love represented security and normalcy; two things she needed as a result of surviving the war. Your love, she told me, was wild and passionate and freeing. She said you made her feel free, Illya. She loved being your wife, she loved _you_. You were _her_ miracle. And now, you are _my_ family.” He walked to Illya and pulled him into a hug.

Napoleon watched the two men hug with just a hint of jealousy. _You’re being ridiculous, Solo! You know you are his best friend; it’s OK if he has other friends_. As the two men separated, Napoleon pulled Illya to one side and said, “Tovarisch? I, ah, don’t need to make a speech, do I? You know how I feel.” It was a statement, not a question.

 

“ _Da_ , Napoleon, I do. I love you, too and I am sorry for all the secrecy earlier. I promise it will never happen again.”

 

Napoleon smiled. “I know, Partner, no worries. Speaking of secrecy, Dr. DeChiara assured Mr. Waverly that knowledge of your marriage falls under doctor – patient confidentiality rules for all the medical staff so, that secret is safe. The Old Man has to leave for New York soon. Are you ready to spread her ashes?”

 

“ _Da_. Help me?”

 

“Of course.”


	12. Epilogue

_Seven Months Later_

 

Napoleon and Illya walked into the Russian’s apartment with bags of Chinese food for dinner. As Napoleon pulled containers of moo shu pork, shrimp egg foo yung, hot and sour soup, fried rice and lo mein out of the container and placed them on the table that was also doubled as a desk, Illya pulled plates, glasses and more paper napkins to supplement what was in the bag. He reached in the fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer.

 

Silently, they went about the business of serving themselves and eating. Illya began to peruse the pile of mail he had grabbed from his box before climbing the stairs to his apartment. “Napoleon, I have a letter from Wolf. With a Colorado return address.” He ripped it open and began to read.

 

“Don’t keep me in suspense; what does he say?”

 

Illya began to read aloud:

 

Dear Illya, I hope this letter finds you in good health. I’m sorry I have not been in regular contact but, I am sure you understand. I was finally able to sell my sister’s house and furnishings. I deposited the money into one of the Swiss accounts that I had given to her. I have decided that I am weary of arguing with your stubborn Russian ass about claiming what is yours so I have amended my will to make you my sole heir. I have left instructions for you to be notified in the event of my demise and I have sent copies of the will under separate cover to you, Napoleon and to Mr. Waverly.

 

If you are wondering why I did that, it is because if you die before me, my will stipulates that Napoleon will inherit and if you both are deceased, the money will be left to UNCLE. This does not change the fact that I promised you can claim this money at any time.

I’m sure you have noticed the return address. I no longer wanted to remain in New York; too many memories. So, I also sold my home and moved to Ouray, Colorado. It is beautiful here in the mountains. You and Napoleon are welcome to visit anytime. Eunice would love to see “Eddie” and “Navarre” again. She and I became quite close after Luti’s passing and I thought Ouray could use a really good barbecue joint and she knew all of Dickey’s recipes, so…

 

Take care of yourself, Illya and stay in touch. 

 

Yours truly,

Wolf

 

Napoleon laughed, “I _knew_ Eunice liked that man! Good for them! And, congratulations to you, Partner Mine, you are officially an heir. How does it feel to know you can walk away from all this,” he waved his arm around Illya’s apartment, “anytime you want?”

 

The blond shrugged. “I feel no different. I am glad that I was allowed to return to the field to do my job. I like my life, Napoleon, I have no regrets. A good thing, too as you seem to enjoy pushing your luck.”

 

“That’s because I know if my luck starts to run out, you’ll have my back.”

 

Illya raised his beer. “I promise that I will try to always have your back.”

 

Napoleon tapped his bottle against his partners. “I’m counting on it. The last two years have been intense in so many negative and positive ways. But, we’re still here! So, I propose a toast: To miracles, love and promises! May we continue to experience them all!”

 

“Hear, hear!” They drained their beers and Illya picked up a container. “Oh, good, there is more; I am still hungry.”

 

“You’re _always_ hungry.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

 

.


End file.
